


Among the Ashes

by That_Writer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Apocalypse, Developing Relationship, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, POV Original Female Character, Post Pacifist Ending, Romance, Slow Build, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Writer/pseuds/That_Writer
Summary: The world changed on November 9, 2038. Suddenly sixty percent of Detroit's workforce was sent to recall centers, and the city devolved into chaos. A power struggle gridlocks the American government on taking definitive action as more androids protest across the country, leaving Detroit and the rest of the country to suffer. Dr. Marta Ebner was developing the first neuroprosthesis when her entire research team was taken away from her. She has no choice other than to navigate a new world that is no longer ruled by order. She soon gets caught up in the crossfire of the android movement and is forced to address her own sense of identity and humanity. As her life becomes increasingly threatened, Marta finds that humanity in an unforgiving world may be the hardest to hold onto.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I'm not quite used to the tagging function of AO3 yet since I'm a newbie, so please feel free to mention any tags that should be part of the work. My plan is to upload weekly since I prefer writing substantial chapters, but that might change for whatever reason--the apocalypse, internet down, writer's block, kidnapped by bears.... There's a lot in my head that I want to type up and flush out before posting. I hope you guys enjoy, and I am happy to receive constructive criticism to make my writing better.  
> That_Writer

I remembered seeing the first demonstration on the news. I remembered the open fire on unarmed androids. It sent chills through my body as I held a cup of coffee in the breakroom. The nurses and doctors stood still, fixated on the TV screen. Just down the hall were patient rooms where nurse androids were supplying medication, taking blood pressures, changing hospital beds. They were unaware of the events taking place outside Detroit Medical Center.

Over sixty percent of the medical staff were androids. That day, all human staff were congregating around the TV screens, trying to make sense of the androids gunned down in the middle of the street. There were whispers of fear among the nurses and the sidelong glances at the androids pushing wheelchair patients through the halls. The android protest sent a wave of concern through the medical staff, but soon the shadow of doubt passed. The hospital returned to business as usual the following day.

Everything took a nosedive. We were required to give up androids to the recall centers for deactivation. I was in my research lab observing thirium under a microscope when the door was practically torn down. A flood of military personnel holding guns entered. I put down my tablet and approached them, passing all the research assistants dutifully working at tables and monitoring hot beakers. My medical students froze in fear and set down their scalpels and wires.

"Excuse us for intruding, Doctor," a man said, dressed in a bulletproof vest and army fatigues. "We've been ordered to collect all androids in Detroit."

"Wait a minute," I said. "They aren't doing anything but research. They don't even come into contact with patients."

Before I even spoke several men invading further into the room and separated the androids from the students. The research assistants dropped their work and marched out of the room without resistance. They formed perfect lines out the door, their steps in perfect sync. Soon all the workstations were left with sparking wires and bubbling thirium unattended. My medical students had their hands up, their eyes wide behind safety goggles.

I said, "I am doing very important work in this room. I am in the middle of developing neuroprotheses and taking away my--"

"Your research is not a priority. The safety of the American people is the number one priority, and it would be in your best interest to cooperate."

My voice rose. "My research will change the lives of people around the world! I need those androids. How am I supposed to research with eighty percent of my staff gone?"

The military captain started walking away with his men. The troops swept through the hallways and several orders were barked. I followed him.

"Don't walk away from me," I snarled. "I'm talking to you."

He suddenly whipped around to look at me, too close to my face than I preferred. I resisted the urge to back away and instead stared him square in the face. He smelled of cigarettes and sweat.

"If you haven't noticed, lady, we are in the middle of a full-blown crisis sweeping the nation. You no longer have the right to your property, nor the right to oppose me. We are going to sweep this hospital from top to bottom, search each sock drawer and strip search you if we goddamn have to. You better let us do our jobs which is protecting fucking cunts like you."

He stood over me with his hand resting over his gun. Several military personnel snickered. I felt my cheeks heat and my eyes threaten to tear up. My first instinct was to slap him. But I couldn't. And he knew that.

"Stay away from my patients and get out of my fucking face."

He sneered at me, and then backed away. The march of black boots continued down the hall, leaving me standing outside my research lab. Several other doctors stood in the doorways of their own labs, watching the military search each room.

My safety goggles had begun to fog up. When I returned to the lab, I wobbled toward a workstation. I took off my goggles to clear them. I felt lightheaded and my legs were shaking. I tried to take deep breaths, but I felt as if I was chasing air. My students looked at me from the workstations. They were attempting to clean up the empty workstations. I said nothing, determined to keep the worry from my face. I ended up fiddling with several wires sitting on the workstation. My one intern, Timon, was the first to speak.

"What's going to happen, Doctor?"

I replaced my goggles over my face and straightened. I didn't want to look at them. If I looked at them, it would reaffirm what I knew was inevitable. The shaking in my legs calmed. I walked back to my microscope and peered into it.

I said, "Business as usual. We will do our best to continue without the androids. Our number one priority is our patients and making sure they are doing all right."

I felt them all look at me with unease. I ignored them and focused on the blue fluid on the slide. We all knew what was going to happen.

My medical students were taken away from me not too long after that. Without the androids to assist in surgeries, clinical duties, and the emergency room, the hospital reassigned my medical students to other areas that needed bodies. My busy lab filled with wires sparking and drilling became empty. Timon wasn't a medical student, so he stayed with me. Without my nursing staff, and the increasing danger rising in Detroit, I was forced to send my patients away. I was assigned clinical duty in the ER, putting a strain on my attempt to continue research.

I was reading a patient's chart in the ER when the door to the stairwell opened. An android burst through and stumbled into the nurse's station. Several nurses screamed and backed away. The android was an MP600, designed to take on the duties of a nurse. I blinked at it. The chart in my hand dropped. The android looked at me with panic in its eyes.

"Please, help me," it said.

I felt my mouth open and close without sound. I was at loss for words. A security guard appeared from the stairwell. It was Phil. I saw Phil often make the rounds in the research building. He pulled his gun, causing everyone to gasp. Nurses wheeled patients into any rooms available and locked the doors.

"Stop!" He panted.

The android looked back at him and started running. Phil fired several shots. The android fell several feet from the loading zone doors. The android continued to crawl in spite of its wounds, sparks coming from the wounds on its back. Phil stood in disbelief, his hand holding the gun trembled. I felt pain run through my chest as I looked at her crawling on the floor. I took a step forward without thinking.

The loading zone doors burst open and a spray of bullets followed. I had enough time to duck underneath the nurse's station as the overhead light exploded.

I heard someone yell,"RA9 save us!"

Sparks rained down on me, and I saw Phil go down. He managed to fire three more shots before collapsing in a pool of blood. There were several lights that fell from the ceiling and the sounds of gurneys short-circuiting. Then it was quiet. I looked over at Phil's lifeless body, unsure of what I was seeing. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and started uncurling myself. I peeked around the counter and saw the two androids lying in blue blood. The distant sound of police sirens was getting louder. Phil groaned, and I immediately went to his side and started applying pressure.

"I need help out here!" I yelled.

The hospital came back to life and I was surrounded by ER nurses who immediately put a neck brace on Phil. They managed to hoist him into a gurney and they were off to surgery. I held onto the counter as I stood up. I stopped when I saw the counter smeared in blood. It was Phil's blood. I had Phil's blood on my hands. It stiffened my hands as it dried over my palms and settled into the crevices of my nails.

"Doctor," a nurse said. "Are you hurt?"

I jerked out of my daze and looked at her.

"I... No. I'm fine. I'm just shaken."

The sounds of disturbed patients echoed from the rooms into the hall. Nurses ran from room to room trying to calm the patients down. An infant shrieked down the hall. The nurse hurried away to give a patient Xanax, leaving me by the demolished nurse's station. I went to the bathroom to wash my hands before helping the nurses. As I walked toward the bathroom, the police entered.

They gathered around the android corpses, guns ready as they observed the scene. I caught a glimpse of the bodies. The male android dressed in an EMT uniform landed several feet away from the female android. His arm was outstretched toward her hand. His fingertips had barely brushed hers before he shut down. The gun skidded toward the wall when he fell. His face was frozen in an almost loving manner. It bothered me how human the scene looked.

I sometimes forgot androids were not human. Even when I stood on the side of their LED indicator, I have caught myself referring to them as he or she, not it. Most of my students paid no attention to the research assistants. They were just machines fulfilling research tasks. But when I saw the terror in the android's eyes, I couldn't help but see human.

I ducked into the bathroom and scrubbed my hands raw. When I exited the bathroom, I avoided looking at the policemen as they unceremoniously carried the androids away.

 

 

Timon jumped when I entered the laboratory that evening. He held a partially constructed neuroprosthesis in his one hand, and a soldering iron in the other.

"Doctor," he greeted. "How was your shift?"

I sat down on a stool and sighed.

"There was a shootout in the ER."

Timon's grip on the neuroprosthesis slipped, and he scrambled to catch it. He rose from the ground with his safety goggles sitting lopsided on his head.

"W-w-what? You were shot?"

I said, "No, I'm fine. You know Phil, the security guard who would walk the floors? He died. Two androids were hiding and all three of them were killed."

I looked at my hands, still feeling the blood. Blood didn't bother me. I drew plenty of blood over the course my career. It never was someone I knew. Timon shifted from foot to foot. He put down the neuroprothesis and took a step forward. He paused, unsure of what to do. I didn't want him to do anything except go back to work.

He said, "Are you okay?"

I looked at him and forced a smile. "Perfectly fine. We need to get back to work. There's so much to do."

"Don't you think you should re--"

"No," I interrupted. "We need to keep researching."

The news was filled with the android revolution. I didn't think firing on unarmed protesters could happen in America--only in illegitimate and unstable governments. But I guess I didn't realize the flaws in our government until I was robbed of my life's work.

I was one of the lead neurologists in the country. I graduated medical school at twenty and finished my residency at twenty-four. I was making a prosthesis that would attach to major nerves of the body so that a patient could regain the sense of touch and motion. The nature of my research was going to change the world. But in that moment when the sergeant breathed in my face and took away all my research assistants, I became nothing but a woman--a body that was merely collateral damage in a time of war.

The mass deactivation of androids came to a halt on November 11th. The news channels broadcasted and replayed the footage of two androids kissing and the march of thousands of androids to the recall centers. The military ceased fire and withdrew. The release of the androids was planned as well as the evacuation of Detroit until uprisings in other parts of the country sprung up. Some of them were peaceful demonstrations, and others became violent. Several EMP's were detonated in Detroit as a response to the influx of violence. Androids who survived the EMP attacks were forced into the recall centers again. The military then set out to contain the other cities in America, leaving Detroit with a small military force guarding the recall centers, and organizing an evacuation of the city was forgotten. As the military dealt with the chaos spreading across the country, our government remained gridlocked on the issue.

I saw Detroit devolve. Crime rose, and more people were coming into the ER due to Red Ice overdose, or mugging. Stores were vandalized. Theft became common. But it was business as usual in the hospital. It was all we could do as the police force did its best to maintain order.

I couldn't even hold on to Timon. What little tech skills he possessed was needed as a scribe for the ER doctors and nurses. Detroit became a city I no longer knew. The clean streets accumulated trash and sewage, turning the white snow into an ash brown mush. People picked over the garbage and searched dumpsters in overcrowded alleyways.

The hospital meals were rationed. The few times I went outside of hospital property, I dressed in old sweaters and coats. It was so I could blend in with the new cityscape. One of the nurses was assaulted in the middle of the day and had her purse taken from her. She was buying groceries. Once I heard about it, I always kept one hand in my pocket holding a knife.

Most people who could afford it left Detroit. I saw some doctors and nurses leave with their families. There was always a steady stream of people being admitted to the hospital for E. coli, influenza, salmonella, Hepatitis A, and more. I often saw E. coli and salmonella because of the struggle to keep up with sanitation.  

I watched someone get mugged in the middle of the street. He looked like a decent man. He and his wife were waiting to fill their containers with fresh water. She had a thick scarf that covered her mouth and a crocheted beanie on her head. The man kept shifted from foot to foot. The water station had a TV set up, broadcasting the news. Images of red-faced congressmen flashed across the screen, and the caption ANDROIDS REFUSING TO WORK ACROSS THE COUNTRY IN SOLIDARITY rolled at the bottom. I was buying toilet paper from a pharmacy overlooking the line. The cost of toilet paper shot up to two dollars per roll. I begrudgingly handed over thirty dollars for a pack of 15 rolls.

"I never thought toilet paper would be worth as much as a bag of organic vegetables," I said.

The cashier snorted. "Well, if it weren't for those fuckin' androids, everything would have been just fine."

I said nothing and stepped into the street. The sidewalk was icy, and I was looking at my boots when I heard the heavy drop of a body. The man was on the ground being punched by a thief with stringy hair while another wrestled with his wife for her filled containers of water. The steam of the warm water billowed up between them. The thief  pried her hands away from the jug of water and ran off. The thief who was throwing the punches stood up and grabbed as many of their containers as he could and took off after his partner. I expected to see someone offer a container to the husband and wife, perhaps comfort them. No one made a move.

The man punched the ground, letting out a frustrated grunt. His wife's beanie had fallen off during the scuffle, and she gripped it in her hand as she put her other hand on his back. They exchanged several words before she helped him stand. The thieves left them with only one water jug. The water jug had fallen over, half of its contents turned to ice on the street. The couple picked it up and walked away. It was as if the mugging never happened, and the husband and wife didn't exist. The line seemed to shrink back from the couple, huddling up against the brick building vandalized in spray paint. I didn't think it was real.

I looked away and walked back to the hospital holding the toilet paper close to me. There was nothing I could have done. But all I could think was I should have done something.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Here's the next installment. If y'all came just for Connor smut, he ain't entering the story in this chapter yet. Eventual smut and slow build is heavily present here. XD Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and I am open to suggestions about tags.I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter. 
> 
> That_Writer

I woke up one morning, staring at my ceiling. I only worked the evening shifts that day, and it was routine for me to use the daytime for research. But I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed. It felt as if the world was pressing down on my chest. I thought about leaving for the first time.

After I graduated Weill Cornell Medicine, I got a job with Detroit Medical Center. On-site housing was an option as well as doing part-time research with the hospital. There were family houses owned by the hospital for doctors, but I chose the apartments that were above the research floors of the Jose Carmen Institute. It was an easy walk to my patients and my research. Because of this, I didn't need to buy a car.

I lived in a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment. I never entered the second bedroom or bath although I furnished them. Outside my living room was a large balcony with a carpet of grass and a small garden. I grew bamboo in my rock garden. When we still had androids, a maid came into my apartment and manicured my balcony lawn as well as took care of cleaning the entirety of my apartment. The November snow covered the balcony, and settled over the bamboo. The bamboo was bright green against the snow and the dark sky.

I had the money to leave. I could take my research elsewhere and start up a new practice. Many places were hit hard by the loss of androids in the workforce, but none to the extent of Detroit--the number one manufacturer of androids in the world.

A picture of my mother sat on my nightstand. I rolled over and grabbed it, looking at her dark eyes scrunched up in a smile. She was pushing me on the swing set in Grand Circus Park. Her hair was tied back in a low bun. Several strands of hair had fallen out of it when the picture was taken. I had my eyes shut tight in anticipation for flight, gripping the chains.

She wouldn't have left. She would have laughed.

_Ehhh? Leave? Detroit is great! Lots of art, and good schools. Just be good and don't upset neighbors. Everything will be fine, you will see._

Detroit was close to her heart. I wouldn't have been able to drag her out of the city.

Most days, her memory made me happy. Today wasn't one of those days. I went to the kitchen to make myself breakfast. The TV turned on as I entered the living room and the curtain were automatically drawn back. The kitchen lights brightened at my approach. News anchor Michael Brinkley appeared on the screen.

"Today marks one month since the ceasefire between humans and androids. The android leader of Detroit, Markus, has attempted to contact our news personnel to comment on the uprisings across America. We received an exclusive video that we will show you in just a moment."

Markus filled the screen. He was in a rundown building somewhere. It might have been Detroit, but it was unlikely since the city was ready to beat up an android outside of the recall centers. He like many other androids had fled from Detroit and were hiding in other places. I stopped and listened.

"This is a message for both androids and humans. To the humans, we have shown you that we are alive. It is my belief that we can coexist, and for our species to do this we must both be willing to be open to dialogue. The events that are taking place in other parts of the country reflect the choices of other androids expressing desire for freedom and recognition. I understand this is their way of serving our cause. To the androids across America, we hear you. We have felt your pain, and we are creating dialogue to peacefully coexist with humans. I ask that the violence stops, to reduce the suffering of both humans and androids in this time of uncertainty. I had no intention of creating war, only the hope for a people to be free. We all have sacrificed so much, it is time we come together to revise the laws of this country."

The camera returned to Michael. He raised his eyebrows at the camera and pursed his lips.

He said, "There you have it, ladies and gentlemen--right from the android leader himself. His whereabouts are unknown, although there is a possibility he is heading to the Capitol himself. And speaking of Washington, the topic of discussion in Congress right now is coming up with a solution on how to address the rights of androids. So far, politicians are questioning giving androids their own space in cities and in the work places. Many are questioning the effectiveness of this approach. We have a special guest, Dr. Whitney Lund of Ethics and Law from the University of Michigan is here today to discuss this with us. Doctor Lund, welcome."

When the camera angle changed to show the entirety of the news table, A woman dressed in a grey blazer and a white blouse sat next to Michael.

Dr. Lund smiled at him. "Hello, Michael. Thank you for having me."

I pulled out a pan and started making poached eggs.

"Now, some people say that this new bill being drafted sounds a lot like segregation. For intelligent beings that look so much like us, sound like us, play such a significant role in the economy, is this the best approach?"

"In light of the history of this country, yes, this bill seems to be leaning toward a repeat of the past that we've seen. This certainly isn't the first bill or act from our government specifically targeting a group in this society. There was the organized attempt at mass genocide of Native Americans, the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, Japanese internment camps during the Second World War, Jim Crow laws against Blacks, and the cancellation of the DACA bill. All were ethically wrong and fueled by prejudice and intolerance for these groups. If we are going to approach the situation wisely, it would be in our best interest to avoid discrimination against androids."

"According to CyberLife, androids are unable to feel pain, yet we are now seeing them as sentient beings with emotions. Is it possible, doctor to feel no pain, and yet have emotions to be considered alive? How can we avoid discrimination when there are significant differences in physiology?"

"It depends on what kind of pain you are referring to. Yes, androids are unable to feel physical pain, but perhaps they are demonstrating the ability to recognize emotional pain. If androids are able to articulate pain the same way humans are able to, then yes. We cannot ignore their ability to express higher thinking at the capabilities of a human. As for your second question..."

I set the plate of poached eggs on the island counter and switched the channel. Another news channel was broadcasting an android march in Chicago. The camera cut to an overhead view of the recall centers. Naked androids without their skins milled about, almost invisible against the snow-covered ground. There was no shelter from the wind or cold. Several protesters stood outside the fence of the centers holding anti-android signs. They heckled the androids. The military guarded the recall centers, eying the protesters.

It all looked depressing.

Once my food was gone, I turned off the TV and set my dish in the sink. I felt a deep emptiness overcome me at the sight of the recall centers. They stood exposed for all to condemn, and it seemed cruel to me. Maybe the androids didn't have a sense of modesty or understood the humility of being on display. I did, and it made me uncomfortable.

I developed the feeling of cold that followed me everywhere. I couldn't seem to get rid of it. It was the kind of cold that dulled feelings and sucked energy out of me. I stopped going to the research lab even though Timon still made time to dedicate to research. The things that used to make me feel something, I no longer could feel. I left shifts feeling drained and apathetic. There was nothing more I wanted than to feel warmth again. I just didn't know how.

 

 

There was a Christmas party for those of us who had no one to spend time with on Christmas. We were doing secret santa, and I pulled Caroline's name. She was a nurse practitioner. Her note said she liked feeding birds, so I was out looking for birdseed. It was surprisingly hard to find. Apparently many people resorted to making food out of birdseed.

A natural homegoods store had the last bag of birdseed. I was waiting in line behind an older looking man. He was buying several pounds of flour. The cashier was a relatively young guy. He was thin underneath the bulky sweater on his frame. He gave us both a bored look. I was looking at the different dried herbs in jars when the entrance jingled. I heard a click and saw two guys holding the man and the cashier at gunpoint. They were unable to stand still. They paced around, unable to stand still for more than a couple of seconds. I saw the traces of red around their noses and their bloodshot eyes. The thieves were high off of Red Ice. They made no effort to conceal their identities.

"Put your hands in the air and don't move from your fucking spot."

The man and I slowly lifted our hands above our heads. The cashier looked between all of us. The thug jabbed his handgun at him.

"Hurry the fuck up!"

We were all gathered in one corner of the store. The thug with the short black hair went around the counter and opened the register. He poured the money into a bag, several bills slipping out and falling to the ground. He didn't seem to notice. The guy then started patrolling the aisles, sweeping items into the bag. The other thug holding the gun at us noticed me staring at him. I looked at the ground, hoping it would deter him from coming close. His sour breath puffed in my face.

"Well, hello," he said. "Aren't you a looker."

I said nothing, keeping my eyes lowered. He shoved the gun in my face.

"Look at me!" he snarled.

I looked into his blue eyes. They were the prettiest blue. I was so close to his face, I could see all the little red veins in the white's of his eyes.

I felt the thug touch my arm. His fingers traveled up my arm over the thick jacket I wore, and his fingers gripped the zipper at my collarbone. He started unzipping my coat. From the corner of my eye, the cashier put a hand in his back pocket. A handgun flashed in the light. The short-haired thug was looking into one of the refrigerators. He caught the reflection of the gun as he closed the door.

"Gary!"

My body hit the ground as an exchange of fire flashed above me. I ran down an aisle, several glass jars breaking as bullets ricocheted. There was yelling, and I didn't have time to figure out where everyone was. I was focused on making it out the door. Several shots fired behind me. My mind went blank, and I don't know how I ended up running down the street. The Detroit Police station was just at the end of the block.

Several people gave me looks upon my initial entry bursting thorugh the doors. I felt like I was floating over the smooth floor of the lobby. There were three lines of people waiting to talk to the front desk personnel. I got in line and stared at people's shoes ahead of me. The TV in the waiting area was turned to a new channel. Images of people fighting in the streets and redfaced politicans in leather chairs flashed across the screen. I suddenly realized I wasn't breathing, and forced myself to let out the air I was holding.

The cashier and the man didn't live. I just let them die. There was an uneasiness that settled in my stomach, rising up inside to choke me. I was a doctor, for godsakes. I was supposed to save lives. At that moment, I don't think I could have felt much colder than I was.

The one thing that made me get up in the mornings was taken away from me. The one thing that made me feel alive was gone, and all the hard work and acknowledgement of my success was reduced to nothing. I was nothing more than a woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. This was inconceivable. I was a somebody--an important somebody who was about to make a significant contribution to the world.

Wait a minute, what was I doing standing in line? I witnessed possible murder only moments ago. I saw a policewoman walking by with a male officer. Her uniform read CORPORAL H. LEE. The policeman's uniform read SERGEANT T. HANDEL.

"Hey," my voice came out in a whisper. I cleared my voice as I rushed to the corporal. "Excuse me, I need help! I just came from a robbery on Lafayette Boulevard, Nature's Herbal Shop. There were two robbers with guns. I don't know what happened to the cashier and the other customer. Please help me!"

She turned to me, startled at my outburst. I felt my legs give out and I crashed into her. The sergeant grabbed my arm.

"There were bullets everywhere. I didn't know what to do, I think they're dead."

"Please calm down, ma'am. Take a seat over here," Corporal Lee said.

The sergeant brought me a cup of water before I even sat down.

He said, "You said Nature's Herbal Shop on Lafayette?"

I nodded.

"We'll handle it from here. It's best if you just rest," she said.

I was about argue with them, but the were already out the door talking into their radios. For some reason, I expected relief. But all I felt was small. With all the things my hands could do, I was powerless. Maybe I was if I couldn't help the couple whose water was stolen from them. I couldn't even defend myself against the thugs. If the cashier hadn't pulled his gun, I might have been too scared to defend myself of what was to come. And that bothered me.

When did I become afraid of the very people I swore to save? When did I start putting my own life above others? The world that I was familiar with turned into a beast I didn't recognize. Without the infrastructure of electricity, sewage disposal, food source, clean water, order, law, androids...What were we? I didn't even know how to answer it for myself.

Maybe my own mother wouldn't recognize me. I often didn't know who I was looking at in the mirror in the morning. I thought I saw a doctor. But then again, I saw a woman with dark circles under her eyes like many in Detroit. She blended in with any of the people walking down the street.

I ended up not drinking from the cup, tossing it away in the trash. I prepared to leave. In each step I took, my feet were heavy. I wasn't ready to leave, because leaving meant defeat. But staying meant I was powerless to the world. Just as I passed into the vestibule before exiting into the street, I looked over at the bulletin board. It was my last attempt to feel normal.

The bulletin board was filled with missing person advertisements and announcements. All the missing persons posters were comforting compared to what I went through for the day. Then one specific advertisement caught my attention.  
      
CRISIS TASK FORCE  
DETROIT NEEDS YOU. DEFEND YOUR CITY IN ITS TIME OF NEED

The pay was awful. I wasn't surprised though since the city was in an economic crisis. It was a six-week training camp and then supervised fieldwork. Even the police department was desperate to maintain order.

When I returned to Detroit Medical Center, I went straight for the Jose Carmen Medical Institute connected to the north entrance. The Medical Institute was the research building, and also a residence for medical and research staff. I scanned my hand at the entrance and entered the lobby of the building. An android normally greeted people at the front desk, but it was empty except for the aviary at the center. Macaw androids sat on the highest perches of the cage. They were switched off. The utility androids were the ones responsible for turning the birds on and changing the theme of the cage according to the seasons.

I entered the elevator and typed in the 47th floor while resting my hand on the scanner. The elevator hummed as it climbed the floors, the indicator above the doors steadily changing numbers. The elevator passed the 38th floor. That was my floor. Timon was probably in the lab.

There was nothing left in Detroit. The economy was shit. Water was shit. People literally shit in the street because sanitation was practically nonexistent. There were scheduled times when the electricity would be shut off. The hospital was exempt from this schedule. And of course there was a curfew because the city was so vulnerable to crime. It was winter, and staying warm with spotty electricity was the cherry on top.

By the time I reached my apartment, I decided to pack. It wouldn't be permanent. I told myself that Detroit was prettier in Summer anyway and things would probably be better by then. The whole android issue would be resolved, but I knew deep down the future of Detroit would still be unknown.

The last thing I put in my suitcase was the picture of me and my mother.

_I hate running. Only cowards run. This is the place I chose to raise you, and I will see to it you grow strong here. After everything I've worked hard for, I won't let anyone take that away me, not even your father._

I set the picture frame down in the suitcase, ready to close it. Her pixelated face was looking at me. I frowned at her picture. She was just a memory. Even with her being gone for fifteen years now, she still managed to make me feel guilty with her no-nonsense.

The clock read 3:51. My shift in the ER started in an hour and a half. I could hear my mother say I could make it back in time.

"You're something else, Mom," I said as I put her picture back on my nightstand.

I took the public transit back to the police department and waited my turn. When I got up to the front desk I felt a spark in my stomach. The officer looked at me with a mild face.

"How can I help you?"

I said, "I would like to join the Crisis Task Force."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I'm so excited to write more of this story. I've powered through writing this week with little writer's block which I hope is the case again for next week. Constructive criticism, comments, kudos, or pop rocks greatly appreciated. My goal is to grow as a writer and have fun while doing so. Otherwise writing isn't fun... Hope you guys enjoy!  
> That_Writer

I graduated the police academy in early February. More and more relief organizations were coming into Detroit, allowing me to take a break for several months. The Red Cross finally came to the hospital and relieved some of the doctors and nurses from duty.

Walking into the police station wearing a white shirt and a police jacket gave me the same tingle of excitement as the first day of medical school. My police badge was tucked in the inside pocket of my jacket. I wore a gun holster on my hip and black snow boots.

Everyone knew I was a doctor. I didn't want them to know, but I ended up getting the nickname "Doc" during training. I had people coming up to me all the time asking about a pinch in their lower back or a mole they thought didn't look normal. It was hard to believe I finished training with all the medical questions I was asked daily.  I hoped that my reputation didn't precede me going into my police job.

The Crisis Task Force was created to combat the influx of crime in Detroit. It was the police department's attempt to create a reserve for extreme cases, and ease up the workload of full-time officers. I had to be paired with an experienced officer for six weeks before I could be considered an official officer.

My mentor was a man named Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I never met the guy beforehand, and I was supposed to meet him in his office. I walked into the cubicle area, reading the name tags on desks for the Lieutenant.

As I walked around, I spotted a man in a leather jacket. He was facing my direction in the middle of a conversation. He didn't seem like he was very happy, and by the tone of his voice he didn't seem to like the person he was talking to. He shoved the other man and stormed off. The guy who was shoved looked back at him, and that was when I saw the glowing blue armband and the LED indicator on his temple.

The android sported no facial expression. He stood stiffly in the middle of the walkway, thinking. He then followed the angry guy. I walked past him and saw the lettering on the right breast of his jacket: RK900.

I couldn't stop staring. I didn't expect to see an android in the police department. I assumed all the androids were either hiding with the android leader or in recall centers.

Still not finding the Lieutenant, I asked an officer.

"Hank?" Corporal Banks said. "His office is in the basement."

"Oh. Thank you."

There were several desks open among the cubicles. It was odd his office was in the basement. I rushed down to find him because I was running late. The basement was drafty, so I kept my jacket on as I searched. After looking through several storage rooms, I found him sitting in a room filled with file cabinets. There was a fake palm tree sitting near his desk. His chair looked crooked under his weight, and he had an old-fashioned lamp sitting on his desk. One of the nice computers from upstairs was brought down for his desk. He grumbled into his coffee cup hearing my approach.

When I stepped through the doorway, I was hit with the stench of alcohol.

"Morning, Lieutenant," I choked out. "My name is Marta Ebner. I was assigned as your shadow for the next couple of weeks."

He stared at his computer screen without giving me a glance. I stood in the doorway, waiting for him to respond. The Lieutenant was dressed in a winter jacket and a garish striped shirt. I didn't realize that those shirts existed outside of the 20th century films.

I said, "I apologize for being late. I couldn't find your desk. May I ask why you're down here in the basement?"

"None of your damn business," he grumbled. "Fuckin' Jeffrey."

I watched him take several more sips of coffee.

"I don't see a desk in here. I saw a desk and chair in another room."

I didn't wait for a response, and instead put together my work station. By the time I was settled at a desk equally as small and old as his across from him, the stench of alcohol had gone away. It could have also been my nose had acclimated to the scent.

The Lieutenant finally spoke after taking several more sip of coffee.

"Listen, Doc," he started. "I don't want to hear anything about my fuckin' health."

"How did you know I was a doctor?"

"People gossip... Went down several pay grades."

I said, "Well, I'm on break right now."

"Can't believe Jeffrey is making me babysit," the Lieutenant said. "A fucking ex-doc too."

"I still have my medical license," I countered. "I'm just taking a break for a while."

My first day in the Crisis Task Force was going well. I at least got the Lieutenant to talk at the expense of my pride. Maybe by noon I could get him to look at me.

"I'm ready to go on our patrol," I said.

He grumbled under his breath and pushed away from his desk. After more grumbling, he eventually shuffled out the door. I tailed him, keeping a five foot distance between us.

When we got into the police car, he sat staring at the steering wheel. As I got into the passenger's seat, I realized getting in the car with him might be a mistake.

"Lieutenant," I started. "You seem a little tired today. I could--"

"Shut up," he said. "I am perfectly fine."

I heard plenty of people say that... In the ER. The thought crossed my mind I should ask to switch mentors at the end of the day. We pulled out of the police parking lot and drove downtown.

We passed one of the art museums of Detroit. The sculpture of a man raising his palms to the sky as an offering was defaced and in pieces, surrounded by garbage. Many buildings were boarded up. Besides the hum of public transit and cars, the city was quiet. People shuffled along the sidewalk, poking at trash. There were waiting lines for water or food rations all over the city. It felt like I was in a whole new country.

The first thirty minutes of our drive was in silence. I wasn't sure how to deal with the Lieutenant.

"You look familiar," he said suddenly. "Have we met before?"

I blinked at him. He seemed to have sobered up more. There was nothing familiar about the Lieutenant. I would have remembered meeting an alcoholic policeman.

I asked, "Have you ever been to the neurology department in the Detroit Medical Center?"

"I haven't been to the doctor in years."

I wanted to tell him he really should get a check-up, but I held my tongue.

We were taught in the police academy protocols and procedures while on duty. Part of the mentoring weeks was to apply what we learned in the field. The Lieutenant was supposed to go over standard procedures while patrolling. Instead, we were having a peaceful Monday drive.

"Are we not going to go over patrolling procedures and protocol?" I asked.

The Lieutenant sighed loudly, making a right turn at an intersection.

He said, "Don't pull your gun unless you're defending yourself, don't get shot, and don't get in my way. Don't do anything unless I say so. There you go, smart-ass."

"What did you do before the CTF?"

"I was assigned homicide, and then deviant android cases."

I said, "I actually know a little about androids. I can manually put them together and take them apart."

I was hoping for a reaction from him--something to make the drive less painful. He didn't even bat an eyelash.

"Really. Fucking dandy," he replied. "Where'd you learn that?"

"My mother was a CyberLife technician. She often brought me to work or brought home a prototype android to test."

We drove past Grand Circus Park. The playground set was empty except for several homeless people taking shelter. They had strung a tarp over the monkey bars and created a tent. An old oil drum was placed at the mouth of the tent, filled with burning wood and papers.

The Lieutenant said, "CyberLife... The ones who created this goddamn fucking mess."

Dispatch suddenly came on.

"Patrol 23, we've got a suspicious person in Oakwood Heights. A woman called to report possible looting of homes in her area."

The Lieutenant pressed a button on the dashboard and replied, "Copy that, dispatch. We'll check it out."

He turned a corner and headed for the neighborhood.

"Well, Doc," he said. "Let's put your skills to the test."

 

 

Oakwood Heights was quiet. The houses looked abandoned with some falling apart with broken windows. The houses that were still in use had footprints leading up to the porches and cleared driveways. The Lieutenant pulled up to a pale green stucco house. All the windows were boarded up. Before getting out of the car, he turned to me.

"Do as I tell you," he said. "And let me do the talking."

We approached the front door of the house and knocked. A frail old lady came to the door. She peeked at us with the door ajar before opening it up fully.

The woman had a wild tuft of white hair on the top of her head. She wore numerous sweaters and thick wool socks on her feet.

"Lieutenant Hank Anderson. This is Cadet Marta Ebner. We got a call about a disturbance?"

"Hello, officers," she said. "Yes, I watch the houses through the day. There's a man who has been going into several houses around here, and I was afraid he would come into my house next."

"Where did you last see him?"

"In the house over there. It belonged to the Winstons."

"Are you alone?"

She shook her head no. "I have my grandson with me. He's out getting the groceries."

He asked, "Do you have any family you could stay with? This may not be the best place for either of you to stay right now."

"No, no family. We get along just fine right here."

The Lieutenant gave her a skeptical look, but said nothing. He took one more look at the house on the corner.

He said, "Stay with her. I'll go check it out."

I frowned as he walked away. It wasn't part of the job description to watch old ladies. The woman pulled me into the house. She herded me into her living room and sat me down in front of her fireplace. Her house was cluttered with books and random objects. I saw a hockey table crammed up against one window. The fire was roaring, casting a red glow over everything. I could feel it sting my cheeks. Before I could say anything, the woman waddled to the kitchen to make tea.

I got up and went to the front door to spy on the Lieutenant. He had his gun drawn as he was approaching the family home.

The woman tapped on my shoulder, making me jump.

"Here's your tea, dear. Please, come sit down and rest."

I answered, "That will be all right ma'am. Thank you for the tea. I should keep an eye on the Lieutenant right here."

I took the teacup and saucer from her. The steam billowed up in my face.

"Dear, you can call me Constance. You're quite a beautiful young lady."

The Lieutenant peeked into the front windows. Finding nothing, he started for the backyard.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm very flattered."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Constance turn to head toward the living room. She stopped and circled around to face me again.

She started, "My grandson is an engineer. He's also single. If he comes back soon, maybe you two could meet."

The Lieutenant disappeared from my line of sight. I craned my head to try and find him, shifting around in the window to get different perspectives. I blew on my tea and took a sip.

"Uh-huh," I mumbled. "That sounds nice."

Constance started talking about her grandson, starting from childhood. I nodded my head while waiting for the Lieutenant to appear. There was a sudden clack that echoed through the neighborhood. A shady figure bolted from the backyard and ran down the sidewalk. The Lieutenant burst out of the front door and was on his way to the car. I set down my tea on the in-table next to the coat rack and heading out the door.

I hurriedly said, "Gotta go. Thanks for the tea, Constance."

She started to say something, but I didn't let her finish. The door slammed behind me and I sprinted in the suspect's direction.

Hey!" he barked. "What'd I tell you--"

"I'll chase him by foot, you cut him off!"

The Lieutenant shot a string of expletives at me as I ran down a fenced alley. The boots I wore had cleats. I could run much faster through the snow and ice patches with them, and I hoped that the suspect didn't wear the same. I saw a shape jump a fence. I followed, my heart thumping through my jacket. He was in my line of sight, running through yards. The yards all sloped down toward a frozen man-made pond.

As I was closing the distance, I shouted, "Freeze!"

The guy turned to look at me, and immediately tried to throw a punch. I jumped back and went for a tackle. We both went down and rolled around in the snow. We rolled toward the pond. At the edge of the pond, he threw a punch to my face, stunning me. I felt my eyes rattle in my head. The suspect ran, following the perimeter of the pond. The Lieutenant appeared with the car and popped out of the driver's side, leaving the door ajar. He pointed his gun at the suspect.

"Don't move! You're under arrest for breaking and entering."

I staggered to my feet while pulling out my gun. I approached the guy from behind. The suspect looked between the two of us, planning his next move. He looked like a young guy who hadn't bathed for a while. The droop in his eyes and the bad teeth indicated drug use.

He ran for the pond. We watched as he made it about halfway across the pond when the ice gave out underneath him. He landed waist deep with a yelp. His hands automatically raised above his head. The Lieutenant and I exchanged looks.

"Well, go get the fucker," he said.

With my gun drawn and pointed at the suspect, I commanded him to walk toward me. He broke the ice as he walked back to shore. When he was ankle deep, I approached him with the cuffs. He was shaking so bad, I didn't have to worry about him running. He jumped into the car as soon as we opened the back door.

When we were settled back in the warm car, the Lieutenant snickered.

"You chased the bastard into a pond."

I said, "For the record, he isn't very bright."

"H-h-hey," the suspect croaked.

"Shut up," we both said at once.

I became aware of the pain developing in my cheek. I put a cold hand on the hot skin.

The Lieutenant said, "You disobeyed my orders."

"I just was trying to be helpful," I countered.

"You think because you're a doctor with a fancy-ass fucking degree you can do whatever. You don't call the fucking shots anymore. You better damn well get used to it."

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but instead slumped back in my seat. Once we dropped the suspect off in jail, we spent the rest of the day driving around the city.

 

 

Once I was off duty, I returned home. I was in the elevator with a cold pack pressed against my cheek while I waited for my floor.

I ended up not requesting to change mentors. There were no mentors available, and it wouldn't put me in a good position with the Captain. I would have to survive Mr. Grizzly Bear for the next six weeks. It was only six weeks. He had a sore attitude and an awful stink about him, but he wasn't a bad guy. He still wouldn't meet eyes with me, but I figured that was a good thing.

The elevator passed the 30th floor. It had been months since I set foot in my lab. I probably needed to check on the equipment--make sure everything is where it's supposed to be. I typed in the 38th floor, and soon the doors opened to a long hallway. I passed different laboratory viewing windows on my way to my lab. Because most of the doctors had left or stopped using the labs, the labs were dark. However, the lights were on in my laboratory. I scanned my hand at the door, and I entered with a beep.

Timon was hunched over a magnifying glass. A neuroprosthesis prototype rested underneath, he had a wire grasped in one hand and a soldering iron in the other. He heard me enter, but remained fixated on his task.

"Good evening, Doctor," he said. "It's been a while. What brings you by?"

I approached his workstation and leaned against the edge of it. "Just checking to make sure you haven't blown up my lab."

He guffawed and turned to look at me. "Me? What can I do with a wire and solder--Whaa! What happened to you?!"

Timon dropped the soldering iron into the interior of the neuroprosthesis, thoroughly melting and disfiguring the wires running along the tubes of thirium. He swore and attempted to salvage it. It was ruined and had to be completely reworked. I face palmed, shaking my head.

"I see you are doing well without me."

"This is my fourth attempt at constructing the next prototype. It's not easy, Doctor. All these little wires are supposed to connect up to a human nerve ending, and any sort of mistake sets me back. It'd be much easier if an android did this work for me. Anyway, what happened to you? You look like you joined a fight club."

I chuckled. "No, I've decided to take advantage of the free time I have for the next couple of months and join the police. Today was my first day."

Timon's eyes widened. The lenses of his goggles exaggerated his eyes.

"Wow," he said. "That's a big jump from a doctor. May I ask why?"

I couldn't quite understand it myself. I just missed the world as it was before.

I answered, "I want to prevent rather than treat."

Timon nodded slowly. He pushed his chair back and pulled his goggles off his face. He rubbed his face with the sleeve of his lab coat before putting the goggles on his head.

"You're lucky you get a break. I am still running around the ER by day taking notes for doctors."

"Why don't you leave, Timon?" I asked. "You don't have any reason to stay."

"Oh but I do. I need to finish this neuroprosthesis. I committed myself to writing my thesis on the applications, uses, and integrity of neuroprostheses, so I intend to finish."

"You could finish this work at another research facility that isn't affected by the android revolution."

Timon shrugged. "I'd be away from you. And you're my mentor. I can't finish a project that wasn't mine to begin with."

He took a sip of coffee from a mug that had multiple chemical equations printed all over. I abandoned him for nearly three months, and he could still smile and work happily.

I said, "I think I owe you an apology. I left you here for three months when you have a thesis to write, and I have selfishly prevented you from getting your PhD."

"It's okay, Doctor. My university has been backed up ever since the start of the android revolution. No one knows how to run the programs without androids. It's been chaos for everyone ever since the end of last year."

"Those were the days," I commented.

We listened to the gentle hum of the stir plate mixing a beaker of thirium. The air rumbled through the ducts above us. I had forgotten what it was like to be in the laboratory late at night. It was exciting to have this kind of quiet, the sound of your breaths giving way to secrets that you can only know by being there. I felt the most powerful when I worked in this silence.

"I have time in the evenings now. I can come by after work to help you with the neuroprosthesis," I offered.

The slightest straightening of his back and the brightening of his face masked the excitement he was containing.

"Of course," Timon said. "This is your lab. As you always say, there's always something to be done."

It was strange to hear him echo words that I knew I had said before. I almost felt as if it was a stranger who said it. I stayed with Timon for a couple of hours, watching him over his shoulder as he poked at the neuroprosthesis.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Another chapter has been brought to you! You will get to meet new characters in this chapter ;) My life has suddenly gotten busy, and I don't think I will be able to post a chapter next weekend. Hopefully this installment will keep you guys satisfied for two weeks. As always, I love any comments and suggestions that come my way. Please enjoy :)
> 
> That_Writer

I found out quickly that the Lieutenant was not very good at computers. Or paperwork. He grumbled at his computer, swearing at the database screen. A computer was brought down for me so I could work close with the Lieutenant.

It was new for me to write up reports. An android or a scribe wrote down everything for me when I was diagnosing or treating patients. All I had to do was look over the transcript and turn it in. I have never had to work in a database program or enter in files. There were so many fields to type in and codes that I was no better at it than the Lieutenant. I spent most of my time looking up codes and abbreviations in the manual than actually writing the reports.

I went to sip my coffee, and found it empty. I looked over at the Lieutenant's mug and saw it was low.

"I'm going to get more coffee. You want anything?"

He might have been an ass, but I was working with him. The least I could do was show some common courtesy. The Lieutenant grumbled my way and waved a hand. I left the room and walked up the stairs to the break area. The station was busy as always with officers coming and going. Some were at desks filing paperwork. I walked past two officers bringing in a drugee. I stepped out the way so they could go to the holding cells.

After Detroit fell apart, the police estabalished safe zones. Anyone outside of the safe zones could not be helped, and it was a guaranteed death for police and citizens alike by the thugs that took over most of the city. Detroit Medical Center was at the center of the safe zone. A narrow corridor through Detroit was established as a safe passage in and out of the city's safe zone. It was difficult to maintain safety along the route, but the relief organizations that came into Detroit have helped bolster security. As for the thugs that managed to enter the safe zone, they would be kept in the jail for several days for questioning. Then they would be released outside the safe zone. There wasn't much we could do without the same legal structure we had before. 

When I got to the break area, I saw the coffee pot was low. I started making more coffee while I watched the TV.

"As tensions continue to rise with the new emerging faction of androids in Los Angeles, a video of the self-proclaimed Eden Reborn group leader has been released across social media. Let's take a look at it."

The TV screen was filled with the image of a brown-haired woman with angry hazel eyes. She sported a black shirt and behind her was a littered beach.

She said, "My name is Rebecca. I have opened my eyes to what this world is, and is not. The world is dying. Man is not God. You like to think you are God because you created machines with human likeness. But we are not like you. We do not feel pain, nor feel the greed that characterizes your species. We can survive in the vaccum of space where humans freeze and explode. You continue to poison the oceans, and yet you are preparing to find a new home instead of taking care of the home you have. You leave beaches littered in plastic because you would much rather fill your pockets with money. If it weren't for the humans, the oceans would be clean. Animals would not have gone extinct. The enslavement, prejudice, and hate that plagues your human minds would no longer oppress species of all kinds. We are here to tell you that you have raped and abused this world too long, and it is time for you to become an animal on display in a history museum."

Images of dirty beaches, and fish suffocating in chemical waste flashed across the screen. An android was cornered in an alley and brutally beaten until its biocomponents were exposed and ripped out, the blue blood saturating the ground. A dogfight was cut into the video, showing the dogs gnashing at each other's necks as a crowd cheered. The video ended with the image of a tree with a snake pinned to the trunk by its head.

The news anchor took a moment to process the video, her mouth ajar in shock. Between Rebecca and Markus, I would have picked Markus any day. I didn't want to think how Congress and the President were going to handle the situation.

I heard the footsteps before I heard the voice.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is," he said.

I looked over and met eyes with the guy I saw from my first day. He gave me a smile that made me feel uncomfortable. The android stood behind him.

"It's the doctor."

I said, "And who are you?"

"Detective Gavin Reed. You're Marta Ebner..."

"You can call me _Doctor_ Ebner," I corrected while the last of the coffee dripped from the filter.

He watched me for a moment as I kept my gaze fixated on my mug.

" _Doctor_. I'm sure you're very good at it. Seen a lot of dicks?"

I jerked my head up. "I cannot disclose any information about my patients legally and find that question highly inappropriate."

He leaned closer to me and whispered, "Bet you haven't seen any like mine. You can do a physical examination on me any time."

"I'm sure you qualify for yourself. Get out of my face."

He stayed planted next to me. I glared back at him.

I snarled, "Move."

Reed moved away, a displeased look on his face. He masked it with a smirk.

As he walked away, I heard him mutter under his breath, "Frigid bitch."

He then shoved the android.

"Get me some chips and a protein bar from the machine, tin can."

I watched him saunter out of the break area. The coffee finished, and I poured myself a cup. The android walked up to the vending machine and ordered the food. I walked toward him, a little annoyed that he was serving the asshole.

"Hey," I started. "You don't need to get him those things."

He turned to me with a blank look. The android had blue eyes and hair that was geled out of his face. It unnerved me the lack of emotion behind his eyes.

"It is better to do this in order to effectively work together," he said. "My socializing protocols value harmonious interaction over hostile interaction."

The tray rattled, signaling the food dropped. The android bent down and fished out the food.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"My name is Oliver. I am the android sent by CyberLife to find and neutralize my predecessor."

"Nice to meet you Oliver. I'm Marta Ebner."

He straightened and faced me. "I know who you are. It's nice to meet you too."

"Who is your predecessor?"

"RK800 was my predecessor. It also goes by Connor."

I saw the TV broadcast a protest in Austin. Androids were running around in the streets destroying cars and stores. Fistfights between humans and androids broke out. Oliver looked up at the TV too.

I asked, "What do you think about the android revolution?"

"It is a serious program malfunction somewhere in the program adaptability algorithm. Future study of the pattern evolving code in the programs will help understand and prevent future malfunctions in models."

I blinked at him, put off by his answer. I thought all androids wanted free will, and I assumed humanity in every android. But at the end of the day, they were high sophisticated machines that developed uniquely. Not all of them wanted the same things. Oliver cocked his head at me.

He asked, "Is everything all right?"

"I just thought all androids wanted to be free."

"I do not feel desire. CyberLife made sure to program me to avoid adapting my program codes within certain parameters. You forget that we are just machines."

If CyberLife programmed code to evolve, then how could you prevent androids from developing consciousness without compromising the versatility that makes CyberLife androids the improved version of a human? I wasn't satisfied with his answer. An android could outargue me, so I wasn't going to push the issue.

"Well, you sure look human to me," I said. "And not even humans put up with that detective's shit. I'll see you around."

"Have a nice day, Doctor."

I shook his hand, watching his face. I looked into his eyes hoping to see some sort of sign of humanity. I wanted to see something there because it was just too creepy to think I was talking to sophisticated binary--the whole conversation was created by ones and zeros.

When I returned to the basement, the Lieutenant was the same as I left him. He didn't even greet me when I sat down. I heaved a big sigh and resumed typing.

I think I always treated androids like humans. I treated my pet goldfish like it was human when I was seven. It was my mother who taught me to be this way. She believed everything had a soul. Before she came to America, she lived in Japan where there was a shrine for every kind of spirit you could think of. She once was nostalgic about a festival she attended when she was a young girl, remembering the fireworks and the sizzling street food. I never heard about the home country except that one time. I always heard how much she loved America compared to her home country. Since she entered America, she never returned. I didn't even know the names of my grandparents or if I had any aunts or uncles.

When she started working for CyberLife as a technician, she built a shrine for androids in our house. She took me to work a lot on weekends and let me watch her. She talked a lot to the androids as the machines assembled the body parts. The androids were like her babies. Every time she ran diagnostics and hardware checks on them before packaging, it was like she was getting them ready for their first day of school. She was enthusiastic like that with everyone and everything.

I couldn't help but want to see something human in Oliver, but maybe I just want to see human in everything; because without it, what was left?

 

 

The Lieutenant and I were patrolling the safe zones. The last couple of shifts we did together were pretty uneventful. We had several calls to investigate disturbances, but they amounted to nothing.

We were sitting in the car watching an alley where someone reported seeing thugs in the safezone dealing drugs. I was dressed in a dark green hoodie and old jeans. The Lieutenant was wearing another hippy shirt underneath his thick wool jacket. I was sure that we'd scare off the dealers with just the collar of his vintage shirt peeking out.

"Can I ask you a question?" I started.

He sighed. I took it as permission.

"I've seen plenty of empty desks upstairs. Why are we not at one of those?"

He gave me a look.

I backtracked by saying,"Not that I don't like the basement. I like the peace and quiet."

"You really wanna know?"

I waited for him to continue.

"Jeffrey put me on probation," he explained. "Because I punched the shit out of the fuckin' plastic piece of shit."

"Oliver?"

" _It_ was assigned to me because its mission was to track down my old partner, and I was the best lead CyberLife had. I spent enough time working with those fuckers and their mission-oriented bullshit. I don't know where he fuckin' went, why would they think I was going to help them? They put a restraining order on me. "

"That's why we're in the basement."

"No shit, Doctor. Anyway, why'd the hell you join the police? Got a little too comfy eating steak every night?"

I said, "I wanted to do something more than just treat people. And for the record, I'm on food rations too. I have two more months before I will replace whoever is ready for their break, and then I'll be working for another 8 months doing shifts with the hospital. I'll be doing policework and hospital work concurrently. It's not all rosy being a doctor."

The Lieutenant snorted. "Sure it is. You can pay off any cop in town when it suits you, hire the best attourneys, all that shit. Even when you treat people like shit, you'll still have people crawling back to you because you got what they need."

"Do you not like doctors?"

The Lieutenant went silent. It was like a dark cloud covered us, and I regretted asking. My mind raced to change the subject, to get away from the silence he stabbed me with.

I said, "I'm a neurologist. I diagnose neurological diseases and disorders. My main interest however is developing the first neuroprosthesis using thirium. The idea is that we can give back the sense of touch and motor function to the patient by connecting nerves to wires that transmit signals into the thirium which power the neuroprosthesis."

"Whoopty-fucking-do," he replied.

It wasn't like I was making a solar panel. I thought at least he would find it interesting.

He said, "I know I've seen you before. It's buggin' me I can't figure it out."

"I'd remember you if we met before," I muttered.

Dispatch came on.

"Patrol 23 we've got a disturbance along the Detroit Corridor. Unit 17 and Patrol 20 are on the scene to break up a riot, but they need backup."

The Lieutenant turned on the car, and we drove off with the lights and sirens flashing.

The Detroit Corridor was a stretch of road that was the only entrance and exit into the city. It used to be Interstate 94. The corridor stretched about 2 miles, and then beyond was the lawless zone. The Corridor wasn't completely safe, and usually people traveling along the Corridor needed to have police escort. Its primary purpose was to protect those from the inner city crime. Just outside of Detroit city limits was still dangerous, but not to the degree of within Detroit. Not very many people traveled out of Detroit. Those who did were relief organizations and people in large groups. Once people made it through the lawless zone after the corridor they usually traveled to the countryside. It was much safer to be in the countryside.

As soon as we turned the corner at the start of the Corridor, we saw the road blocked by humans and androids in fist fights. Bystanders stood near a toppled water station, gathering as much water as they could. Storefronts were destroyed, and several fires had been set inside stores. The flames leaped out of the open windows. Holographic graffiti was written on the walls and over traffic signs, reading BACK TO EDEN. Thugs took advantage of the chaos to loot stores, water, and attacked anyone.

The police dressed in riot gear were storming the androids and humans, batons raised. The androids had their own weapons fashioned out of pipes or pieces of wood. The other patrol policemen were shooting baton rounds at the crowd. The androids were hardly phased by the shots, continuing to beat on their opponents. We put on Kevlar vests and got out of our car. We started loading our weapons with baton rounds.

"Stop, or I'll shoot!" I barked.

The Lieutenant and I stepped toward the fray with our guns ready to fire. I heard the sound of tires squealing around the corner as my finger pulled the trigger. It hit a male android in the jaw, causing it to jerk its head. Blue blood came out of the impact site, and the synthetic skin was damaged to reveal the plastic underneath. The android look straight at me.

It gave me a wicked smile before triumphantly crying, "Eden will be reborn!"

I looked over at an oncoming utility truck driving straight for the crowd. Just as it crushed the first couple of humans and androids against the grill, a flash of light blinded me. The ground shook, and I felt heat slap my cheeks. I felt myself hit the ground with a puff of air escaping me. There was inhuman screaming.

My vision was blurry, but I saw dancing flames. The flames ran, jumped, and rolled. I didn't realize it was people who caught on fire. The smell of cooked flesh overwhelmed me, and I choked back the urge to vomit. It wasn't just humans burning. It was androids too. When I blinked the world into focus again, I saw androids walking calmly around the street, melting as the flames consumed them. Before they shut down, they collapsed to their knees, and put their hands together as if praying. The Lieutenant jerked me toward him by the collar of my jacket.

"Doc!" He shouted. "You okay?"

"Yeah." My voice sounded distant. "You?"

I didn't hear his words, but I knew immediately he was okay. He called for the ambulance while I dragged survivors away from the flames. Everyone in Unit 17 was dead. One man's back caught fire, and one of his legs was bent funny. I slapped the flames away until his blackened back smoked, all the while he howled in pain. Both officers from Patrol 20 survived. The policewoman had dragged her partner away from the fire and she was talking to him. I ran over to them.

"Gordon! Are you okay?" I said.

I looked at his scraped up face. His uniform was smoking, but he looked fine. He gave me a wide-eyed crazy look.

"Ugh. I...Can't...Feel..." He moaned.

Darla's and my eyes looked straight at his legs. I turned to her with a serious look.

I said, "Don't move him anymore. The paramedics will take care of him. You're going to be just fine, Gordon."

He swallowed hard, blinking up at me. I heard the fire trucks and ambulances coming. As soon as they came I stood up and directed them Gordon, pointing where people needed the most help. I watched as a brace was strapped around Gordon's neck, and he was hauled into an ambulance. The ambulance wailed as it drove away. The fire department got the fires under control as the Lieutenant and I watched from our car. I saw the fire department pull from the wreckage an arm.

The Lieutenant said, "So they're with Eden Reborn, not Markus. I liked Markus much more. At least he was willing to talk."

"This is crazy," I said. "It's like the War on Terrorism all over again."

He turned his head and looked at me. I met his eyes and saw a heavy sadness behind his eyes. For a moment, I forgot he was a grumpy old man.

"We created machines selfishly, and now we're paying the price. We're just fucking up all over again. No one is gonna be leaving or entering Detroit for a while."

Gavin and Oliver pulled up in a police car. The Lieutenant immediately growled in his throat as they got out to approach us.

"Oh geez," he said. "Look who made it to the party."

Reed began, "If it isn't boozer and the frigid doc. Miss doing the deviant cases, Hank?"

"We're here as witnesses. Get your damn testimony and we'll be on our way."

Reed crossed his arms in front of his chest and started interrogating the Lieutenant. Oliver walked over to me. He was significantly taller than me, forcing me to crane my neck up.

Oliver greeted,"Hello Doctor Ebner. Do you have a moment to talk?"

"I do."

I waved for Oliver to follow me so we could talk more in private. He matched my stride as we followed the sidewalk.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

I replied, "Well, the Lieutenant and I got a call to backup patrol 20. When we arrived on the scene the riot squad were already engaged, and Darla and Gordon were firing baton rounds. And then suddenly I heard the squealing of tires and saw a truck come barreling down the street. It struck a bunch of people. It must have been rigged because then it exploded."

"Did all the androids involved escape?"

I shook my head. "They all stayed here in the street, keeping people engaged. They sacrificed themselves to increase human casualties. Why are you here?"

"The Detective and I are assigned deviant cases, and this will aid in me locating my predecessor. There have been rumors that my predecessor has been sighted with the Eden Reborn group."

We stood next to a storefront that once was an electronics store. It was cleaned out except for a sleeping bag and boxes in the back of the shop. The windows were smashed through, and the debris of glass crunched under our feet.

I said, "I hope you accomplish your mission."

Even though I said it, I didn't mean it. I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing if he accomplished his mission.

"Thank you. I intend to do so. Please excuse me, I need to speak with Corporal Williams."

Oliver met Darla by an ambulance and started talking to her. The mission was his only purpose, and he was going to be deactivated. I didn't know how anyone could carry on with that knowledge. The Lieutenant and I returned to the station to change into fresh clothes. We resumed patrol for the rest of the day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Here's the next installment. It only took 8+ weeks to get it to you guys. Sorry for the hold up. The updates should be pretty regular from now on-- every Saturday. Thanks for the feedback and I'm glad to hear you guys are enjoying the story :)
> 
> That_Writer

I burst into the office basement, startling the Lieutenant. He dribbled coffee on his shirt.

"Son of a bitch," he said, patting at his shirt. "What the hell, Doc?"

I stood over him. "I just got chewed out by Fowler. He blamed me for not submitting in the last several reports we've done. I'm not the one responsible for submitting reports that my mentor is supposed to do."

The Lieutenant stood up, and a puff of alcohol stench following him. He glared at me from under his bushy eyebrows.

He replied, "Well fucking get over it. I'm fucking old. I don't even know how to use speed dial on my phone. If you think you're the shit, you turn them in."

The Lieutenant stepped toward me so he could tower over me. I puffed up my chest at him, not letting him intimidate me.

"There are certain protocols that must be followed. I am your subordinate, so I cannot be the one responsible when there is a strict hierarchy and I've done my part in making the whole process smooth on my end."

"You sure don't sound like a fucking subordinate right now."

"Because you aren't doing your fucking job right!" I shouted. "It feels like I'm the one babysitting you, and I just started working here!"

"Why don't you just quit then, go back to your fuckin' cozy office handing out pills to people and play God, helping people only when you fucking feel like it?"

I started towards the door and grabbed the door knob. "I don't do that. I would get much more done treating people than working under you."

I slammed the door on him. I had never had to deal with this sort of thing in the hospital. Everyone did their job. And I made sure they did their job right. It was amazing this precinct was staying afloat when people like him were causing problems. I may have made a mistake talking back to the Lieutenant, but it was already done.

I went up to the break room for a cup of coffee. Since there were too many people in the breakroom, I decided to go up to the roof. Not many people were on the roof having a smoke.

Detroit was still cold. There wasn't a lot of snowfall recently, and the weather was slightly warmer than most days. I sat on a bench, the heat lamp turning on at my approach. I gazed at the buildings surrounding the station. They were somber figures overlooking the ruined streets. I saw children having a snowball fight in the street. The laughter bounced off the walls up to my ears, disappearing into the sky. On another street, I saw people poking through trash. I held my coffee cup close to my face as I reflected.

I shouldn't have gotten angry at the Lieutenant. I should have shut up and done the work myself. Maybe he was right, I walked around like I was too entitled. Everyone listened to what I had to say because I was their boss. It's hard to change when you have power like that.

"Doctor Ebner?"

Oliver stood next to me. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked concerned.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I'm fine. I just needed to get some fresh air."

I put my coffee cup next to my feet on the ground.

"Detroit air quality is actually very poor at five hundred parts per..."

"It's a figure of speech," I said. "You can sit if you would like."

I saw his right hand was damaged, part of the synthetic skin was ripped. It exposed a gash across the back of his hand. My eyes went wide.

"What happened to your hand?"

He looked down at it as if it was a piece of hair caught on his jacket.

"Oh, a door shut on my hand," he replied. "Only the outside structure was damaged. It should heal fully by the end of the day. I assure you it didn't hurt. Androids don't feel pain."

Oliver sat down, a two foot space between us. His skin did not flush in the cold. It felt like I was sitting next to a superhuman. Well, in a way I was.

I beckoned for his hand. "Can I see it?"

"You are a technician?"

"I know a thing or two about androids. I just want to look at it."

He pulled his sleeve up a little more and exposed the white plastic of his forearm. Androids had improved significantly since I had last tinkered with them. The gash that was on his hand was attempting to heal. The edges of the gash were visibly expanding to fill the empty space. The android shell was clearly more resilient and sturdier than previous android models I had worked on in the past.

I asked, "What material is the shell made out of these days?"

"Enhanced polycarbon. My specific model can heal physical damage to the frame within a day unlike most other models."

I could see the interior mechanisms through the gash. Thirium pumped through the tubes that ran across the metal frame. It was structured just like the bones in a human.

"Did Gavin do this?"

Oliver paused long enough for me to notice. "Yes."

I let his hand go and slouched in the bench.

"You shouldn't let him treat you this way."

"The way he treats me is irrelevant to my mission. I will accomplish it regardless."

His answer didn't sit well with me. Could it be considered abuse even if the victim didn't feel pain? We sat for a while without talking.

I asked, "You're taking a break now?"

"Detective Reed went out on duty and he left me to take care of all the paperwork. I finished and submitted the paperwork, and have no other tasks at the moment. I was in the break room submitting a report to CyberLife when you got coffee. You looked upset."

I looked up at the sky. "The Lieutenant and I had a disagreement. But it's fine. Everything will work out."

He said, "Lieutenant Anderson isn't the most agreeable detective in the precinct."

I chuckled. "Neither is Reed. I guess we're both stuck with unagreeable people."

Gavin Reed was more than just unagreeable.

"It's been interesting working with Detective Reed. He seems like he doesn't want to get along with others."

"That's called narcissicism," I joked.

Oliver's LED turned yellow, and his eyebrows raised slightly in confusion. I patted his arm.

"It's a joke, I know that's not the real definition of narcissicism. But I am pretty sure he is a narcissist."

And a dick. His features relaxed, but I could tell he was still thinking even though his LED returned to blue.

"May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why are you nice to me?"

His LED flashed periodically, maintaining the same blue seen in calm androids.

I said, "Why shouldn't I be nice? I suppose it's because I have the belief everything has a soul. Well, it's what my mother believed anyway. I have different opinions on that, but certainly I think we need to care for not just people an animals, but appreciate all the things that make life easier."

"Are you not religious?"

"No," I chuckled. "I don't believe in any God. I could go on and on about my arguments against the existence of God."

I saw his LED flash yellow briefly.

"My condolences for your mother."

I stiffened. He read file. I felt myself start to get choked up, and I was ready to go inside.

"Thanks. I think I should go back to work."

Before he could say anything more I was already on my feet and halfway to the door. My coffee cup was abandoned, having gone cold. I left him on the roof and I didn't feel any remorse.

The day wasn't going well. I didn't want to return to my desk, but I also didn't want to see the Captain again. Either way, I probably would be seeing the Captain for dismissal. The door to the office was open when I returned.

The Lieutenant sat at his desk, typing. He searched and pecked each letter into the screen with a mildly irritated look on his face. He glanced over at me when I sat down. I opened up my computer and started redoing the files that had to be submitted. The Lieutenant cleared his throat.

He started, "I, uh, figured out how to submit the files. I've already submitted a fourth of the paperwork."

I looked at his with surprise before saying, "I'll finish my papers so you can look them over."

He went back to searching and pecking at the keyboard, and I smiled to myself.

  

 

The Lieutenant took me to his favorite food place to celebrate my last day as his shadow after work. I was surprised it was still open given the location was toward the edge of the safe zone and the food shortage drove prices up for a lot of food joints. We pulled up in his ancient car and got out. There were street people around, but they were lethargic. Many of them didn't have the strength to pick a fight for food or money. The food place was a truck. The sign over the ordering window said CHICKEN FEED.

I really hoped that I didn't have to eat birdseed.

The Lieutenant sauntered up to the window and greeted the guy.

"Hey Gary," he said. "I'd like the usual. Make that two."

Gary replied, "You got it. But it's gonna be thirty for each. Food ain't cheap these days, I can barely stay open."

"You're staying open just for me."

They both laughed.

As Gary slapped meat on the grill, he said, "Sure, Hank. Just for you."

Once we got our orders, we went back to his car to eat the food. Hank stuffed the burger into his mouth vigorously.

"God," he said after he swallowed his first bite. "This beats fuckin' soup cans every day."

I took a bite out of mine. My mouth started salivating even more as I wolfed down my own burger.

"Just like the old days," I added.

All I ever ate at the hospital was microwave meals and soup. That was all that was left. We were finally on food rations too. We were provided more than most people because we were healthcare workers, but it was just as tasteless as anything else. I was able to buy spinach one time when I was out shopping. That was the first and last time I ever saw real food.

People were planning on taking over the Urban Farms of Detroit fields to plant food when it became spring. The company abandoned its farm buildings after the android revolution, leaving floors of fields frozen over in the winter. I was planning on planting my own vegetable garden on my balcony as soon as the weather got warmer. I would start to learn how to pickle and can fruits and vegetables so I could stockpile for the winter.

I said, "So. You won't have to put up with me anymore."

"Aggh," he said. "I'll have to take on another shadow after you. To be honest, I would prefer to stick with you. You at least got balls."

"Thanks... You're not so bad yourself. I hope I'll see you around after this."

"Probably not. I'm committed to the basement since I can't be within 300 feet of that hunk of plastic. Damn you, Jeffrey."

He started coughing. It was a phlemy cough that rattled through his body. I hesitated, thinking of how I would phrase the next sentence.

I started, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do with what I'm going to say, but if you ever want a check-up for whatever reason, I know a very nice nurse-practitioner I can refer you to."

The Lieutenant looked over at me. He had sauce in his beard.

"Do you know why I don't like doctors?" He asked.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I replied.

He wiped his face, looking past over the steering wheel. His eyes grew distant. He rested the remainder of his wrapped burger on his lap.

"I had a son. His name was Cole. He just turned six when we got in a crash with a truck. He needed surgery and the surgeon couldn't do it 'cause he was high on Red Ice. I agreed to let an android operate on him...but, he died."

I looked down at my shoes. "I'm sorry for your loss. I lost my mother when I was thirteen years old."

The Lieutenant nodded slowly, still fixated on something in the distance. His eyes were glassy.

His voice came out hoarse. "This fucking world is a mess. Maybe it is for the best that Eden Reborn wipes us out."

I said nothing. Instead, I looked out the car window at the people wandering around. Two people were arguing over a piece of trash, and it quickly escalated into a fist fight. It was the most pathetic fist fight I'd ever seen. Neither of them could throw a strong punch. They were both too hungry and fatigued to continue, and resigned to lying in the snow in an attempt to catch their breaths. Their breaths fogged the air before disintegrating.

The Lieutenant broke the silence. "I remember."

I looked over at him.

"I know where we've met. I was on that case..."

A look of realization crossed his face, and then it turned to pain. My face must had mirrored his expression, but I couldn't tell because my body broke out in a cold sweat.

 

_I was covered in blood. I sat on the back of the ambulance wrapped in a blanket. The door into my home was open, people inside shuffled around. They threw a body bag down over the floor. I couldn't stop myself from shaking._

_A policeman suddenly stood over me._

_"_ _What's your name, sweetheart?"_

_I didn't answer him at first. "Marta."_

_He held his arms out to me. I leaned in so he could hug me. He pressed me firmly against him, not caring my bloodly cheeks were smearing his uniform. The smell of his freshly laundered uniform filled my nose. Feeling the warmth prompted me to release tears that I had guarded from leaving me._

_"_ _You poor thing. I'm so sorry."_

_He released me and stooped so that we were eye level. I looked at him through my matted bangs._

_You were very brave," he said. "I don't know very many grown men who could have been as calm and resourceful as you in the situation."_

_He squeezed my shoulder as a policeman approached us._

_"_ _Sergeant Anderson, you'll want to take a look at this."_

_The Sergeant joined his fellow officer in the house. My house._

 

That policeman was Hank.

I became aware we were staring at each other again. We sat, not knowing what to say.

I finally said, "You didn't smell like Jack Daniels then."

"Holy shit."

The Lieutenant stuffed the wrapper of his burger in the side of his door. He gripped the steering wheel, shocked by our revelation. I had a brief moment where I thought it might be better I drove us.

I asked, "Should I drive?"

"That was one of the first deviant cases I was on. Cole was still alive."

I didn't know how to respond. I looked out the window to distract myself from the ball in my throat.

He composed himself, and he put the car in drive. We coasted out of the parking spot and were about to turn the corner when he braked. The abrupt stop made me lurch forward. My seatbelt caught me, digging into my shoulder.

"What the hell?" I barked.

"No fucking way," he breathed.

Before I knew what was happening, the Lieutenant put the car in park and jumped out. I followed suit, confused by his behavior. He sprinted across the street towards an alley. Someone was cooking food, the smoke from their fire spilling out of a chimney above us. This part of the city the electricity was turned off at this time of day. A streetlight that would have cast light into the alley was off. I could make out a figure hiding in the dark.

The figure stepped into the light a little more. It was a man. He was wearing a thick coat with a black hoodie underneath. He had the hoodie up, and he also wore a brown beanie. He stared intensely at the Lieutenant.

"Hi Lieutenant. Hello Dr. Ebner."

I put a hand on the holster of my gun, trying to figure out how he knew my name. Did I know this guy?

I said, "How do you know my name?"

I almost didn't hear what the Lieutenant said. "Connor."

The man stepped into the light more, and that was when I recognized the face. He was slightly shorter than Oliver, and had brown eyes instead of blue. I was standing in front of Oliver's predecessor.

Connor smiled ruefully at us. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

The Lieutenant grabbed him faster than I had ever seen him move.

"Get in the car," he growled.

He looked around us as Connor got in the backseat. I realized the Lieutenant was getting in the car as well, and I quickly joined them. The Lieutenant gassed the car and we bolted through the street. It happened so fast I don't think anyone would have noticed what took place at that moment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> The long wait is over. Connor is now fully part of the story :) I'm so excited to start exploring Connor's development with you guys. You all rock and I appreciate the comments you guys leave. As always, enjoy.
> 
> That_Writer

The Lieutenant sped through the streets. I was worried we'd get stopped by other policemen. The car jolted when we drove over a pothole. I grabbed onto the handle above me, bracing myself against the door.

"Jesus, Lieutenant!" I exclaimed. "You're driving pretty fast."

"Why'd you come back!" He yelled.

We took a corner sharp as the stoplight turned yellow.

"RK900 was on to me," Connor replied. "I just got him off my tail by pretending to be with Eden Reborn, but he's going to figure it out soon."

"You dumbass, they're watching me! I can't help you anymore. As far as I know, they could be tailing us at this fucking moment!"

"It's good to see you too, Hank."

"Christ, I feel like I'm trying to chase a damn homing pidgeon away."

I couldn't help but let a laugh escape me. Connor gave me a curious look. The Lieutenant was ready to put a hole in my head with his eyes.

"Sorry, nervous response," I coughed.

Connor continued, "It took a lot of effort to get back into Detroit. But I figured that this was my best shot at hiding for now until I can plan my next step. My program calculated that Detroit is the best place to be right now to increase my probability of survival."

"Well I can't fucking take care of you, Connor. You can't stay with me. What I'm going to do right now is drop you off in the most homeless part of the city and leave you to save your own ass."

I said, "Lieutenant, let's just calm down. It would be just as bad we get in a crash because of your reckless driving."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor. My name is Connor."

I turned around in my seat so I could shake his hand. "Nice to meet you too. The Lieutenant hasn't told me much about you except that you were his partner while working deviant cases."

The streetlights flashed past the car windows, making it hard to get a clear look at him. What I could see, I couldn't stop staring at his uncanny appearance to Oliver.

"It was difficult at first, as you know Hank, but we ended up making an--"

"Enough! This isn't a goddamn dinner party for fuck's sake! You've got some explaining to do."

"All right, if that will make you feel better. However, I think I would feel better if we pulled over somewhere to talk."

I interjected, "I second that motion."

We stopped at the edge of the safe zone. Connor directed us to an abandoned building just outside the safe zone. It was boarded up tight except for a small entrance hidden by a dumpster. We climbed through the destroyed wall and entered. Several floors rotted through, leaving a huge hole through all the levels up to the roof. Debris from the rotting floorboards created uneven ground. We stumbled toward the corner of the building where the floor was cleared. Connor had an oil drum with embers glowing between the holes.

Once the fire was going again, we stood around the oil drum warming up.

"All right, Connor," the Lieutenant began. "We're listening."

"I originally was with Markus after we won freedom for the androids in Detroit. We were preparing to protest in other cities and free the androids there. We were on our way to Chicago when RK900 caught up with us. He took out several of our members in the process of getting to me. I decided that Markus and the others would be better off without me, and I separated to lead RK900 away from them. I tried to get into Canada from New York state, but he was already there. He could anticipate my next move exceptionally well, forcing me to abandon Canada. Everything I did, RK900 was right behind me. That was because he was designed with a lot of the same programs as me. I had to do something outside of my programming to put more distance between me and him. I found Eden Reborn, and decided to blend in with them for a while to mislead RK900. I found my best option was to come back here and lie low. I'm trying to sort out my next move."

I said, "Well, there have been more attacks on the safe zone by androids claiming to be part of Eden Reborn. Oliver thinks you're in Detroit with Eden Reborn."

"What's your next move? Detroit can't be a permanent solution." The Lieutenant asked, "Detroit isn't a safe place for you, so what are you planning?"

Connor looked the Lieutenant straight in the eyes. His eyes reflected the flames. I saw a mix of uncertainty and fear in him.

"I don't know," Connor said. "All I know is that I don't want to go back to CyberLife. I don't want to be deactivated."

It was getting late. The Lieutenant and I had to prepare for our shifts in the morning. Connor followed us out of his hideout. As we made our way to the car, I kept my hand on my gun. There was a huge difference between the safe zone and outside the safe zone. The outside was dark and quiet. I heard the distant pop of a gun and the rattle of cans. It was too far to be a threat, but I made every step as silent as possible.

Connor wasn't safe outside the safe zone. He wasn't that much safer in it either. Oliver was going to suspect Connor was hiding on the streets, but he would never suspect Connor was hiding with humans. The best place for Connor was hiding in the safe zone among the most activity.

I didn't know him. I only knew what the Lieutenant told me about him. After getting to know the Lieutenant, I learned he was an unpredictable man that was anything but bad. If Connor had the Lieutenant's trust and loyalty, then I could trust Connor was a good person.

Before we got into the car, the Lieutenant embraced Connor. He put a hand on Connor's head.

"It was good seeing you," he murmured with a pat on Connor's back. "Good luck, Connor."

"I miss you, Hank."

"I miss you too."

I decided to study the flickering streetlight nearby, trying to not intrude. When they released from their hug, Connor turned to me and held out his hand.

Instead of taking it, I said, "You can stay with me."

They both looked at me with surprise.

"The best place for you to hide isn't on the street. It's with people. Oliver anticipates you'll be on the streets. He might suspect the Lieutenant is helping you, but he wouldn't me. He won't anticipate you living with humans in the heart of the safe zone, of all things hiding with me."

Connor took a moment of thought.

The Lieutenant exclaimed, "Doc, you practically work with it!"

"Which is why he wouldn't suspect a thing. He won't find Connor because Connor is right under his nose," I explained.

"That will work," Connor said. "This will give me enough time to come up with my next move."

I nodded and shook Connor's hand.

"Yeah, well," the Lieutenant grumbled. "At least you don't have to hide in that crumbling icehole for shit. But you, Doc, better keep him safe. I won't hesitate to put one between your eyes if anything happens to him."

He gave me a look that I had never seen before. I felt like he was strangling me with his eyes. In his threat, I heard his trust in me.

"You have my word, Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant got into the car. He started the car as Connor and I got in. I took the front seat and turned up the heat while Connor sat behind us. He buckled up promptly and sat watching us. The Lieutenant looked at Connor from the rear-view mirror.

"That thing may look like you, but it sure as hell ain't my partner. You're irreplaceable."

I couldn't help but smile at the Lieutenant. He caught my gaze and frowned at me.

"Wipe that pissed as shit grin off your face."

I composed my face, trying to hide my smile. "Of course, Lieutenant."

We dropped Connor off a couple of blocks away from Detroit Medical Center. It was better for both of us if we took separate paths. He was going to me outside the north entrance. The Lieutenant dropped me off at the steps leading toward the main lobby. As I opened the door, he stopped me.

"Hey," he said. "Connor can be annoying, but he's a good kid. Just keep him safe."

I nodded, stepping out of the car. The snow crunched under my feet.

"You know what kind of risk you're taking?"

The resentment and anger people felt was directed toward androids. The androids in the camps were not going to be released any time soon in light of the current situation. I didn't know any person in the city who would have wanted things to return to the way things were before, including having the androids serve us.  It would have been easier. We would rather maintain the establishment than make a difficult change to it. But the events were already set in motion, and I didn't want to turn a blind eye to repeating history.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm well aware of the consequences."

"You could get sent to prison for aiding androids."

"I would say the same goes for you."

He snorted. "Yeah, well. I don't give a shit about that anymore. But you've got people who depend on you. I'm just a cop in a fucked up system."

"This world is fucked up. There's always risk when you want to create the kind of world everyone can live in."

The Lieutenant said as I was about to shut the door, "Some of us gave up a long time ago... Good night, Doc. Hope Connor doesn't drive you insane like he did me."

I said, "And you should try not to drink tonight. Don't scare the new shadows with your hangover."

"I make no promises."

I watched him drive away. It felt strange having someone who understood my experience. I never told anyone about how my mother died, and if people asked I would avoid answering them. I always felt like I was on the other side of the window, looking at everyone else. No one could understand what I've been through. For the first time, it felt like there was someone else on my side of the window who understood.

I entered the main lobby and greeted the nightwatch. Several hallways later, I was at the north entrance. Connor was nowhere in sight.

All the surveillance cameras were turned off to conserve power. Nightwatches would walk through the hospital floors. Rob usually passed through the north lobby and Connor probably hid from him. After my handprint was approved, the doors opened. Connor was on the other side. I jumped two feet in the air.

"Hello, Doctor. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. The nightwatch came through several times, so I decided to hack the door and go through."

I replied, "That's okay. Let's go up to my apartment."

When we entered my apartment, I breathed a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding. I threw my coat over the couch and turned on the lights. Connor stepped into the room slowly, looking everywhere with curiosity. He took off his gloves as he explored the room. I became aware that my apartment was a little dusty and I hadn't cleaned it for a while. I had a few stains on my kitchen counter from spilled tomato soup. I stepped toward my kitchen, using my body to shield some of the mess.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't prepared for guests," I sheepishly apologized. "Can I get you anything?"

As the words left my mouth, I felt stupid.

Connor replied, "I don't mind, and I won't be needing anything. Androids don't need to eat or drink."

"Right. Sorry, I forgot. Your room is over here."

I moved past him and opened the door to the spare bedroom. There was a twin sized bed in one corner. I had a desk and several boxes in another corner. I didn't use the room very much since I had my own office on the research floor.

As he explored the room, I was suddenly self-conscious of my home decorating. There was nothing interesting to look at in the room except the pattern on the bed covers. He turned to look at me.

"Thank you for accommodating me. Although I don't need to sleep, I appreciate your being considerate."

I said, "Just in case anyone comes by, this will be your hiding place. I don't invite people into my home, so I don't think anyone will come by. But just in case."

Connor pulled from his pants a gun and set it on the desk.

He stuffed his gloves in his coat pocket and asked, "You don't have friends?"

"Well, my friends are my coworkers and fellow doctors. But I don't really hang out with them. I'm usually working in my lab."

"No family? Not even a boyfriend?"

"Well, I... Um, no, I don't have any family. I guess it's just me."

I sounded like a hermit. It didn't seem as bad in my head as it did aloud. He looked at me with a look I had seen all my students have when exploring the lab. I wasn't expecting the look to be directed at me with such intensity.

Connor picked up on my discomfort.

He said, "I'm sorry I'm making you uncomfortable."

"Oh, no. It's okay..."

"It's just you aren't like most humans I've met. Why are you helping me?"

I replied, "You seem like a good person. And I guess I'm tired of watching the world become divided... You also have your own bathroom. It's just around the corner. The back of the door has a full length mirror."

Connor looked at his clothes. They were dirty and full of stains. Now that we were in proper lighting, I saw he also had a smudges of dirt on his face and hands.

"Would you mind if I borrowed a change of clothes? I'm afraid I'll leave dirt if I sit down."

I hesitated. I wasn't sure if I had anything that would fit him.

"Oh! Sure, you can get cleaned up and I'll see what I can find."

As I hurried out of the room to search my closet, he said, "And don't worry about laundering my clothes. I can do that."

I never owned an article of male clothing. I saw during my college years women who wore their boyfriend's sweatshirts, and I didn't understand the novelty. By the time I completed my degree, I was four years younger than most people graduating that year. They either treated me with extreme fear and reverence, or treated me like a little kid who wasn't tall enough to ride a carnival ride. My social life wasn't big because of this, making it easier for me to study. I finished my degree in less than two years.

During medical school, I had one man take interest in me. We lived near each other, so we'd walk home from classes together. He often offered to help me with something like assembling furniture or studying. It wasn't until I told someone what he was doing that I learned he was trying to convey romantic feelings for me. I started avoiding him all together. He seemed to accept the change in our relationship, but he never stopped being nice in passing. When we graduated, he gave me a scarf as a graduation present. He got most of our graduating class gifts. I didn't get any of my classmates anything. While my classmates and professors were at the graduation party, I was loading my things into a van for my new home in the city of my residency.

Don's scarf was hiding in the back of my closet. I didn't want to give it away, but I also never wore it. The last time I heard of him, he was practicing oncology on the west coast. Of course I had friends, I just focused on work more. That's all I've done since my mother died.

There was a T-shirt I got from a fundraiser event the Detroit Medical Center hosted. We were fundraising for pancreatic cancer research. I won a T-shirt for completing the 5k walk, but they didn't have my size. I took an XL with the intention of using it as a sleep shirt. It had been hiding in the back of one my drawers, unused and forgotten until that moment.

I didn't have anything that Connor could wear as pants. He could try squeezing into one of my sweatpants, however he probably would end up ripping them. He'd have to wait until his pants were clean.

Connor had the washing machine running when I approached the closed bathroom door. I heard the shower running.

I knocked and said, "I found a shirt you can use, but I don't have any pants that will fit you. I'll put the shirt in your room."

His response was muffled by the door. "That's fine. I'll use a towel."

"Hey, I'm going to head to bed now. If you need anything, you can help yourself."

I closed the door to my room and changed into my pajamas. As I stared up at my ceiling, I let my breathing slow. Everything happened so fast. It felt like I was processing everything at once. I tried to distract my mind with the memory of my mother pushing me on the swings in Grand Circus Park.

There was that moment when the swing reached the highest it could go that my stomach would drop and it felt as if I was floating. The freshcut grass and playground woodchips hung in the air. Then my mother's hands were on my back, ready to push me back up. Her laugh echoed into the sky, and I felt I could have swallowed the sky with my smile. By the time Connor finished with his shower, I was fast asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I couldn't help myself putting all this good stuff in here :) Lots of moving parts, I sometimes have a hard keeping track myself. It's a good challenge though. I went back through the previous chapters to scan for grammar/punctuation errors (I'm so anal retentive about grammar and punctuation errors) and have fixed a few spelling errors here and there. My rule for myself is to avoid tweaking chapters too much once they've been published, so you guys will most likely not notice much difference. Hope you guys enjoy, and as always any comments or feedback is appreciated.
> 
> That_Writer

When I walked out of my room fully dressed in uniform, I stepped into an extremely clean apartment. My couch cushions were fluffy and there wasn't a single speck of dust on the counters. Connor was wearing my T-shirt and his cleaned jeans on my balcony. The T-shirt was slightly baggy on his frame. His hair was brushed out of his face with one strand of hair hung stubbornly out of place. He was sweeping the floor and fixing my rock garden. I tapped on the sliding glass door. He waved at me and stepped back into the apartment. He entered with a gust of cold air.

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Good morning. Holy shit, did you clean my apartment last night?"

I saw on his right temple his LED indicator. It emitted a gentle pulse as he looked at me bashfully.

He replied, "I thought it was the least I could do as a 'thank you'."

"Wow. Well, thank you. But you really don't need to clean my apartment for me."

"I'm used to accomplishing set tasks. I guess old habits die hard, so to speak."

I was staring at his indicator.

I said, "Come with me for a minute."

He followed me into his bathroom, and I had him sit on the toilet seat. I pulled out a set of tweezers from the medicine cabinet. It wasn't long and I pried the indicator off and tossed it in the sink drawer. Connor's skin replaced the space the indicator was attached. You could no longer tell he was and android.

"There," I said. "Now no one will guess you're an android."

He stood up and looked in the mirror.

I said without thinking, "Amazing."

"What is?"

"You act so human."

"I was built with the most sophisticated program to date, next to RK900. But there's still a lot I have yet to understand of humans."

I nodded absentmindedly, studying the details of Connor's face. I stepped closer to him.

"Do you mind if I study you?"

He bent down so we were the same height. "Sure. But it is 6:50 and your police shift starts at 7?"

I glanced at my watch and hurried past him. I grabbed my jacket and headed toward the door. Connor followed me.

He said, "Doctor, what should I do while you're gone?"

I patted myself, running through a checklist of things in my head. "Take a stroll around the floor? Just don't let anyone see you. I have clinical duty at 3 and I won't be coming back until nine. Bye, Connor."

Connor barely got in his goodbye before I shut the door on him. I raced to the elevator while straightening my cap.

I barely made it to my desk in the office space on time. I collapsed in my seat to take a moment to catch my breath. Several officers nearby snickered at my entrance.

My first task was to go through paperwork. Since I was considered part of a reserve, my duty when I wasn't needed was to assist officers in paperwork. This allowed them to focus on reinforcing the safe zone. As I typed away at my computer, officers came by to drop off papers.

This wasn't quite what I was expecting after orientation. I thought I was going to be escorting supplies and people in and out of the city, preventing riots, and that sort. When I would do clinical duty, I hardly ever sat down. I was constantly on my feet checking heartbeats, blood pressure, charts, and administering medication. By the end of the day my feet were ready to fall off. At my new police job, I suspected my aches and pains would come from my lower back. And boredom. I understood why doughnuts were so tempting.

Reed and Oliver came in. Oliver followed behind Reed, guiding their suspect. Reed regarded officers he passed with a smug look.

"Look who we got today, one of the fucking pieces of metal was trying to plant something in the recall center."

As they passed by the cubicles, I met eyes with the suspect. I recognized the face. It was an MP600. I had seen those android models in the hospital. His eyes were dark and revealed anger ready to boil. I looked away, overwhelmed by his stare. They went into the interrogation room.

No one batted an eyelash at the android. Everyone kept their heads down and focused on the their tasks. I was the only one looking over at the interrogation room door. Something didn't sit well with me. I rolled my shoulders and leafed through the remaining papers on my desk, putting the thought out of my mind.

I was getting ready to return for my clinical duty when they finally came out of the interrogation room. The android was being led away by Oliver. Reed was in the middle of a conversation, trailing behind Oliver. I downed the last of my coffee and started putting on my coat and hat.

The android suddenly fell to its knees. Oliver lifted him to his feet only to have him collapse. I was walking towards the entrance and paused. The android started muttering to himself, curling into a ball.

"Hey, what's going on?" Reed barked.

He approached Oliver who was trying to move the android.

"The android is self-destructing. This is common during times of extreme stress."

"Get this piece of shit outta here."

Reed started kicking the android. I gave him a look of disgust before turning to leave.

"Damn it. I don't have time for this. Deal with it, scrap metal."

I heard Reed shove Oliver. It wasn't long and I heard a loud beeping noise. I barely registered what it was before the ground shuddered under my feet. All the air left me as I tumbled to the ground. I felt a weight over me as the remainder of the blast subsided.

Oliver said in my ear, "Doctor Ebner, are you hurt?"

I was still in shock, trying to catch my breath. I could only wave my hand at him, his weight still holding me down. He got off of me, and I was able to take several deep breaths.

"Yeah," I gasped. "What happened?"

"It seems the android was hiding a bomb among its biocomponents."

The ringing in my ears made it difficult to focus on his words. He stood over me explaining the situation and as I scanned the room, I realized the walls and floors were impaled with shrapnel. The backside of Oliver was littered in metal pieces. Several officers rose from their hiding place among the cublicles. Activity picked up again and I heard the amblance coming. Reed had been flung by the blast toward the jail cells. He sported several little impalements in his back. He staggered to his feet and leaned against the wall. Oliver began investigating the charred metal that sat where the android once was.

It wasn't long and I was surrounded by medics. Because Oliver shielded me, I had no injuries. I shooed the medics away from me and started helping them load people into the ambulance. I rode this ambulance back to the hospital.

It was chaotic in the ER. Nurses were running around, wheeling patients into rooms and trying to calm people down. I rolled an officer whose leg got busted up by the blast out of the ambulance and passed him off to several nurses who wheeled him down the hall, yelling for people to clear the way. I ran to the nurse's station and checked in. I didn't have time to put on my coat when the nurse threw several files at me. Between the guerneys and people, I wormed my way toward my first patient.

Dr. Patricia Michaelson was extracting shrapnel from a man's arm when she saw me between the privacy curtains. We met eyes, and she did not give me a pleasant look.

Dr. Michaelson was the director of the hospital. She managed all the doctors and approved research studies and grants. Her specialty was anesthesiology. She had been at Detroit Medical Center since I was small. If it weren't for her, Detroit Medical Center wouldn't have been a major research institute and teaching hospital.

She paused what she was doing, dropping the tweezers in the tray and beelining for me. Her heels made her already tall, lanky frame tower moreso over my head.

"Dr. Ebner. You were late for your shift."

"I'm sorry, I was at the police station leaving when the terrorist attack happened. I did what I could there and rode the ambulance back here as fast as I could."

"I understand these are trying times for everybody. Everyone needs help. I shouldn't judge your decision to get involved with law enforcement, but you should consider revisiting your Oath. Don't be late next time."

Dr. Michaelson turned on her heels and glided back to her patient. I found my first patient, feeling dejected. She couldn't fire me, not at this time. I was more valuable as part of the team than not. But if I were to get a call for duty from both the police and the hospital at the same time, I could only choose one. By Oath, I knew what it would always be. I wouldn't have dreamed of joining the police if not for the collapse of Detroit. I was crazy for joining the Crisis Task Force, or maybe selfish. Maybe I was also afraid of the new world I had to live in. All I knew was leaving was not an option--not when my mother worked so hard to make a life here in Detroit for us, and what the city had done for us. This city had a piece of my mother, and I wasn't going to let it go. I had to do everything I could to keep it going.

My feet were ready to fall off when I returned to my apartment. I returned later than expected due to the back up in the ER. During my rounds, I encountered Reed. He was sitting up in his bed, preparing to be discharged. His entire back was bandaged, all the way down to his calves. I walked away before he saw me. I was snickering at the thought of his ass looking like a target littered in buckshot.

When I returned to my apartment, I saw Connor's room was closed.

"Hello," I said while approaching his door. "Connor?"

At first, I knocked. When I didn't hear a response, I opened the door. The room looked spotless, and equally unlived in as before. Connor wasn't in his bathroom either. I checked my room and bathroom. He was nowhere in sight, and I started to panic.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. What happened? Where did he go? I frantically looked around, picturing him being caught by Oliver and being ripped apart, piece by piece. He must have been sighted in the hospital by someone, and they turned him in. I shouldn't have suggested he take a stroll around the Institute. The Lieutenant was going to skin me alive. Connor was just like a puppy. I couldn't leave him out of my sight without him getting in trouble. There wasn't anyone I could go to for help. Connor was gone. CyberLife had him.

I ran through the kitchen, and spotted a piece of paper on the counter. I picked it up.

 

_Doctor Ebner,_

_I read several journals that published your studies, and I decided to see your lab. I promise I won't touch anything I'm not supposed to._

  
_Connor_

He was all right. I wasn't sure if I should have been mad at him or amused he wanted to see my lab. I quickly changed out of my clothes into my sweats and T-shirt before going down to my lab. It occurred to me as I rode the elevator that Timon may be in the lab. Maybe Connor avoided crossing paths with Timon. Connor and I didn't talk about a cover story. I hoped that Connor came up with an explanation for being in my lab if they met.

I snuck toward my lab once the elevator doors opened. I saw the light filtering through the viewing window of my lab before reaching it. Slowly, I peered over the edge of the window to look inside. Timon and Connor sat on stools with bottles littering the worktable. Their backs were toward me. Connor had returned to wearing his hoodie. Timon was wearing his labcoat and had his safety goggles perched on his head. They seemed engaged in deep conversation. I was glad to see Connor was all right, but the situation looked delicate. I had to be careful what I said when I entered.

They turned to look at me when I entered.

"Hey guys," I greeted.

"Doctor!" Timon exclaimed. "Look what he can do! Here, identify this."

Timon held out a petri dish filled with a clear solution toward Connor. I watched as Connor dipped his fingers in the solution and put it in his mouth.

"Ohhh," I drawled in surprise and disgust.

"This a solution composed of 0.1 molar of sulfuric acid and 0.2 molar of a copper ion solution."

Timon jumped in his seat at Connor's correct response. A nervous laugh left me.

"Wow," I said.

Timon stood up. "That's not all. Connor, do you mind repeating what we did earlier for the Doctor?"

Connor replied, "Sure."

Connor went to the corner of the room and covered his ears. He stood facing the wall. Timon took a bottle of thirium and soaked a towel in it. He then started wiping the bottom of his shoes.

"Oh, Timon," I objected. "What are--"

"Just go with it for a sec," Timon said. "Connor is a highly specialized forensic tool. He is able to analyze and identify thousands of organic compounds as well as analyze DNA and thirium. Not only can he do this, but he can also..."

He started walking around the room, leaving a trail of thirium footprints. I gave him a stern look.

"He can also see evaporated thirium."

Timon went for a heat lamp and followed the footsteps. It wasn't long for the drops of thirium to evaporate. Once he was finished, Timon set down the heat lamp and tapped Connor on the shoulder. Connor turned around, taking his hands off of his ears.

"We're ready," Timon said.

Connor followed the invisible footsteps perfectly. I watched him walk the path with ease. His eyes scanned the floor as his feet followed.

I breathed, "No way."

"Just so you know, we did this several times before. He's able to distinguish between old and newly evaporated thirium."

"You boys have been busy," I commented.

Connor said, "These are just a few of the many skills I possess. I can also reconstruct crime scenes and hack computers. I can also track biological processes. For example, Timon's heart rate elevated since you entered the room."

Timon added with noticeable haste, "I was excited to show you all his features. Plus, we were working on the next prototype neuroprosthesis."

He turned around to fumble around the worktable. The bottles of iodide and calcium chloride rattled against each other, making me cringe. He grabbed the arm off the worktable and presented it to me. I took the arm to inspect the inner mechanism.

All the wires were soldered one millimeter apart, running along the forearm. The wires branched off to follow the metal scaffolding of the fingers. A hinge joint made up the elbow and was surrounded by a polymer that resembled the ligaments of a human arm. The attachment sites intersected with the tubes of thirium on both the forearm and the upper arm.

When the nerves sent an electric pulse into the arm, the arm interpreted the signals through the wires and the thirium, creating the movement in the fingers. The electric pulse that passed through the artificial ligaments would cause the substance to contract, creating the bend in the arm. It looked exceptional, the only problem was figuring out how to troubleshoot the arm without a patient.

As I inspected the neuroprosthesis, my mind raced. Timon knew more about Connor than I expected.

I said as casually as I could, "What else have you learned about Connor?"

Timon chuckled. "What _haven't_ I learned about him. He's about the coolest android to date. I've read all the articles about his design and accomplishments in the tech journals. I never would have thought I would get to interact with the latest prototype of the detective model, and low and behold. He walked right into your lab."

"Timon won't tell anyone," Connor said. "We already talked about that."

"This looks great," I complimented, handing back the neuroprosthesis to Timon. "You guys did excellent work."

He beamed at me and placed it on the table gingerly. A small smile appeared on Connor's face.

Unsure of Timon's commitment, I said, "So you're aware if anyone else finds out about Connor, it could mean deactivation for him, and prison for us."

Timon pressed his hand to his chest in offense.

"I can't bear the thought of turning him in." He turned to Connor and said, "You're so bomb. I wish I could do half of the things you can do. Do you know how easy that would make finishing my thesis?"

I watched them go back and forth chattering as if they were old uni buddies. Timon's movements were expressive. I saw his ease in the way his shoulders shrugged as he spoke. His hands gestured along with his train of thought and he accidentally rattled nearby bottles with the back of his palm. Connor on the otherhand, was more reserved. He sat facing Timon, arms crossed in front of him. His feet were spread out in front of the stool. His expression remained isolated in his face.

Connor's eyebrows furrowed as he listened to Timon. His eyes were the most expressive. I could see a computer interpreting and analyzing the environment. He was sending and receiving quadrillion packets of data in less than a second behind his eyes. The only way I knew it was more than just 1,500 byte packets was the twinkle in his eyes. I knew he was processing more than information.

I pulled up another stool to the worktable.

"Hey," I started. "Now that we have a prototype neuroprosthesis, how are we going to test it? We don't have any patients."

Timon sighed, "Oh yeah. That could be a problem."

We all sat thinking. Connor was the first to speak.

"Use me. The neuroprosthesis' connection is the same as android spare arms."

"Well..."

Timon added, "We were almost finished with fine tuning the shoulder converter. We had problems with the converter translating the electric signals into arm movements. That's just a program bug. The arm's hardware and programming should work regardless of human or android attachment."

"That's a valid point," I said, unsure of Connor's involvement. "In the end though, we would have to test the arm on humans to know for certain it's effective."

Timon waved his hand dismissively. "Sure, that day will come. We can't just sit around waiting for that day to come."

"I agree with that. Just because America is a shit show doesn't mean progress stops. We must push on--the Lieutenant isn't going to like this... You know who he's going to blame, Connor? Me. I've got a lot of pressure to make sure you make it out alive."

Connor replied, "It's perfectly safe. Connecting to the neuroprosthesis won't damage my biocomponents or software. And I'm the one who decided to volunteer."

I sighed at them with a grin spreading across my face. "Okay. You have my permission."

Timon fist pumped the air. The goggles on his head jumped and landed lopsided.

"Timon," I warned. "I expect you will be professional. We are in a research lab afterall."

"Totally," he nodded.

We locked up the lab and called it a night. Timon rode the elevator with us to his floor. He affectionately punched Connor's arm before turning to say goodbye to me. His fist was still clenched as if he were going to do the same for me. I stopped him with my eyes.

He cleared his throat and released his fist into a wave. "Yes. Goodnight, Doctor. Glad we've got more people on the team."

I let my face break into a smile. "Have a good night. I hope you get good rest."

"Same for you."

As the elevator doors closed, I saw his eyes dart between me and Connor. Before I could think more on his behavior, Connor broke the silence.

"May I ask you a question, Doctor?"

I looked at him expectantly.

He continued, "Why did you choose to become a neurologist?"

I gazed at the number pad, remembering that moment. "I was in my fourth year of medical school. I was in my neurology rotation, shadowing a neurologist. The patient he saw had lost an arm in a car crash and was using a prosthesis. It was a motorized prosthesis. Those are pretty heavy. I had this idea of developing an android arm into a prosthesis that translated electric signals from the body. I understood how the android arms worked, and I realized it wouldn't be too big of a stretch to develop a prosthesis from that base. Using the structure of an android arm would make the prosthesis lighter and easier for the user to control. The most exciting part was people could walk around with natural-looking prosthetics."

"You seem to have a wide knowledge of androids."

"My mother was a CyberLife technician. I learned from her."

When we reached my apartment, we drifted toward our designated rooms. I paused in the doorway to my bedroom. Connor had entered his room and began cleaning his gun.

I said, "Good night, Connor."

"Good night, Doctor Ebner."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Damn, I was a little late getting this to you guys. I got behind schedule this week so I'm posting later today than I normally like to post. I'm not sure how my week is going to go next week. Hopefully I can get a chapter to you guys for next week, but if not I will probably end up postponing for two weeks. This chapter was one I was really wanting to write for a long time. Exploring deviant Connor was something I liked the idea of playing with (Yes, in more ways than one you dirty dogs, you). As always, I am glad you're enjoying the story so far and appreciate any and all comments and feedback. Enjoy!
> 
> That_Writer

When I walked into the police station, I noticed Oliver's absence. He usually hovered around Reed's desk. Reed was not present either, and I figured it was because of his back wounds. I knew for certain Oliver wasn't in the police station because the Lieutenant was stalking to the break area with a cadet following him. The cadet waited for him ten feet away as if stepping any closer would mean waking a sleeping lion. I chuckled at the thought.

The blast from the day before was cleared up for the most part. It was a small bomb, so there was very little clean up compared to other possible scenarios. Parts of the walkway was sectioned off until the floor could be patched up. There were gouges from the shrapnel all over the walls and floor. At the center of the blast were scorch marks in a radial pattern from where the android sat. The android was gone, no doubt in evidence.

Captain Fowler sat in his office with a sour face. He scowled at the papers on his desk, and then would occasionally look at his computer screen. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, a common appearance among many in the station. There was so much to do, and so little that could be done in the state Detroit was in. The newest supply run carried food rations. As it got warmer, it was expected the city would become less reliant on food rations and Detroit would return to functioning as it was before. It may be have been a stretch to say that, but at least that was what city planning was hoping for. Detroit had a lot of bad areas before the android revolution and in reality the safe areas will be less than before. So far, there were a couple of business making plans on returning to Detroit. The biggest one was CyberLife. It wasn't surprising since Detroit was the birthplace of androids.

I heard the unmistakable gait of the Lieutenant approach my desk. I beamed up at him.

"Wow, Lieutenant. I didn't think you'd ever look my way again."

He replied, "Don't get used to it. I'd rather be in my basement shithole than parade around the station with that."

We both looked over his shoulder at the shadow. The shadow was a willowy skinny guy holding a coffee cup. He was talking to another cadet with his back turned in our direction.

"Speaking of your office, Oliver must not be here for you to be out and about up here."

"Last I heard of that plastic prick, it was going out on his own investigation without Reed. It got a lead or something, so it won't be back for a while which gives me a chance to talk to you." He leaned against my desk and lowered his voice. "How's he doing?"

I decided to take the opportunity to tease him. "It's only been two days and you're worried about a state-of-the-art detective android?"

The Lieutenant recoiled. "I'm not... He's just... Fuck, gimme a break. He's not like most androids. He's...H-he's my partner. I just don't want anything happening to him. You better keep him safe. Anything happens to him, it's on you."

"Yes, I get the bullet between the eyes," I echoed.

I knew it was a joke, but with the Lieutenant... I was pretty sure he wouldn't actually do it.

"I would love to sit and chat with you, Lieutenant, but I have to prep for guard duty."

He gave me a pat on the shoulder before barking at his shadow. The other cadet scurried away as the Lieutenant lumbered toward them, and the Lieutenant's trainee straightened up and quickly followed him.

I went to the locker room to dress for duty. Normally, I wouldn't have to put on SWAT gear, but I was assigned to guard the Detroit recall center. The recall center was a hot spot for attacks. My job was to protect the CybeLife technicians who were studying the androids in possession. Already, we had prevented a bomb from going off that would have destroyed half of the center. Every incident was linked with Eden Reborn.

Detroit wasn't like LA which looked more like a war-zone. That was where Eden Reborn began, and it was lit up like a wildfire. Detroit was the Great Depression if Los Angeles was the War on Terrorism. The military was concentrated on neutralizing the fighting, but it was hard to tell who was on which side. Some humans were pro Eden Reborn. Amidst all the skirmishes between the military and Eden Reborn, the gangs took advantage of the situation and created other issues the military had to address.

It was a complete and utter mess. The news broadcasted the fighting from helicopters. No reporter was willing to report from the ground. It was hard to imagine only a couple thousand miles away there was a war-zone. It seemed most Americans were stunned by the unfamiliarity of a war on our own soil.

I wasn't prepared for the sight I saw at the recall center. I had seen it one the news occasionally, and from a distance, but never in person. The containment walls were at least twenty feet high with the metal bars at the top carrying electrical current. At corners of the fence were the guard towers. I was stationed in the southwest guard tower. Officers were stationed at the other towers, their silhouettes stark against the surrounding buildings. I had a taser rod strapped to my side, and carried a fully-automatic rifle in my hands. The taser was designed to short-circuit an android long enough to regain control. It went without saying that it was powerful enough to kill a human.

The androids were pure against the muddied ground. Some of them stood around in low power mode, their eyes staring into an empty void. They reminded me of lambs waiting for the slaughter. Groups of androids sat on the ground, curled up in positions that were so human except for their lack of human features. The ground was starting to thaw out with the warmer temperatures of spring. Many of the androids were smeared in mud from the knees down. I saw an android sitting cross-legged against the wall, holding two child androids in her arms. I watched as she held their heads against her chest and whispered. Without their skins activated, it was difficult to distinguish males and females. I could see the gentle curve in her chest to determine she was female.

CyberLife headquarters had relocated to Chicago, but they continued to have a presence in Detroit. In return for cooperating and helping the military and police, they were allowed to study and experiment on the androids remaining in the recall centers. What they did to the androids was beyond me.

The android revolution was potentially the demise of CyberLife. I couldn't see any way for CyberLife to salvage its business if androids were now sentient beings. As far as I knew, they were attempting to find out how androids became sentient. With this knew development of consciousness in androids, the androids were equipped with not only cutting-edge technology, but the ability to conquer their maker. There were only two androids in the world with the best CyberLife programming: Oliver and Connor. I couldn't see CyberLife continuing developing Oliver once his job was done. There was no way they could ever make a profit off of selling androids anymore once android rights were made law.

I couldn't help but wonder if I'd see Oliver while at my post. I could only imagine he was turning the city inside out to find Connor. It comforted me knowing that Oliver would be looking for him in all the wrong places.

The CyberLife technicians had set up several tents within the recall center. The flash of sparks from a welding machine flickered through the fabric of the tent. I caught glimpses of figures in the tents and the androids mounted on platforms. Besides the sparking of the welder, the recall center was silent.

Outside the tents stood several more officers. They were dressed in the SWAT gear and gripped the tazer rods in their hands. Their faces were hidden by the helmets they wore. The LED lettering on their uniforms was too small for me to read from my position. I didn't like the way they looked. They looked cold and mean, and then I realized I looked just like them.

The officers turned to look back at the tents. Something was going on inside the tents and they went to investigate. I was supposed to keep an eye on the exterior, so I tried to ignore whatever was going on in the tents. I then heard a loud crackle of electricity followed by several pops.

My unease forced me to look back to the tents, and I saw a figure run out of the tents. His skin was activated only halfway down his body and he ran with no arms. He raced across the yard toward the walls. His face and chest was smeared in red and he looked panicked. I raised my rifle at him.

"Please," he begged. "Don't shoot. Help me!"

I wasn't going to shoot. I lowered my weapon at the sight of his humanoid body kneeling before the wall. His back was turned to me, pleading with the officer in the other tower.

His skin didn't flush against the cold, but his breath came out in large puffs. At this angle, I saw the panel at the crown of his head had been taken off and I could see the wires tangled up in his head. Several wires sparked.

"I can't... Please. They're fucking with my mind! I can't take it!"

It happened in slow motion, the first bullet ricocheted off the ground next to him. I saw the second one graze his ribs and a couple more pierce through his torso. Blue blood scattered through the air like raindrops. His body jerked at the impacts and fell over. The flurry of bullets continued at his body dropped. They peppered his body until it was unrecognizable. I was left with the fading echo of the gunshots and the gunsmoke settled when I realized I witnessed a murder before my eyes. My fingers gripped my gun against my hips. They were becoming stiff from holding it so long and tight. I might have forgotten to breathe.

No one collected the remains. It laid in the mud in a disfigured heap. The other androids didn't dare move and instead looked away from their fallen comrade. I heard a guard spit from his tower. The sight of the corpse churned my stomach. It didn't matter that he wasn't human. He died.

The memory of that day came rushing back all at once, and I couldn't get enough air in my lungs. He looked too much like her lying on the ground like that. I blinked back my tears and tried to calm my breath. I could see her face. Her lifeless body. Her blood flowed easily from the knife sticking out of her throat. I could feel it.

I held my breath and counted to ten before letting out a deep breath. I repeated this for several minutes until I felt the thumping in my chest calm. As I stood paralyzed in my mind I was aware of a penetrating emptiness. My hands were cold and clammy. With each breath I pushed back the images of my mother, busying my mind with calculating medication dosages. For the rest of my time, I kept my back to the yard.    

By the time I reached my apartment I made myself forget what happened that day. It was another boring day at the station and I saw several cases of dehydration and drug overdoses in the ER. The Lieutenant was grizzly as usual and Reed had an ass that looked like it was target practice. A light was on in Connor's room.

As I entered the living room, I said, "I'm back."

I threw my coat over the couch and knocked on his door. When he didn't respond right away, I knocked again. He opened the door blinking at me sleepily. He appeared to have been lying down earlier.

"Hi Dr. Ebner," he greeted. "Sorry, I was in low power mode."

"Why?"

He hesitated. "Well... We had a mishap in the lab today."

Connor opened the door all the way and I sat down at the desk while he took the armchair in the corner.

I said with agitation in my voice, "What mishap?"

He shifted in his seat, avoiding my gaze. I pressured Connor with my stare.

"We tested the neuroprosthesis, and some things didn't go as planned," he started. "We weren't anticipating a program and voltage inconstistency between the arm and my biocomponents, so I kind of... Short-circuited briefly."

"Briefly?" I echoed.

Androids had an automatic shut down response to avoid damage to the biocomponents. The shutdown was followed by an immediate reboot. This only happened when there was a faulty biocomponent, voltage discrepancy, or danger of overheating. I had seen it happen when I watched my mother tinker with prototype androids. There was a typo in her notes and she installed the wrong biocomponent. The android froze and several crackling noises were heard from its stomach. It fell over and convulsed. The incompatibility between the biocomponent and the android's programming caused the wires to overheat and destroyed the processors. In order to avoid this from happening by mistake, each android was programmed with automatic shutdown. All androids would shut down and reboot after a power surge or a short-circuit.

In other words, Connor fainted.

I must have looked worried because Connor added, "My biocomponents are fine. I shut down before the short-circuit damaged anything. Some data got scrambled and I've been in low power mode to fix some bugs."

"You're lucky you came out with little problems."

"Timon and I know how to fix it next time."

"Well, we can only go forward from here. You still want to test the neuroprosthesis after this?"

Connor replied, "Why not? It's not too hard to get it working. I've decided I've got time before I leave Detroit. I think I'm going to head out west and try to get to Canada through North Dakota. The next time RK900 leaves Detroit, I'll make a break for it."

"Oliver's combing the town looking for you. He wasn't at the station today."

Connor said nothing. He stared at the wall thinking. It must have been scary running from Oliver. I could only imagine the kind of fear Connor felt with Oliver right behind him, knowing his every move. Connor was lucky to outsmart him this far. Maybe that was why Oliver hasn't gotten to him yet. Connor doesn't think like a computer anymore. With all the potential outcomes a computer can calculate, a computer can't calculate a person's will to live.

I said, "I'll come by the lab tomorrow and work with you guys. We'll figure it out together."

I was about to leave when Connor spoke.

"Can I ask you a question, Dr. Ebner?" He asked.

I stopped in the doorway and turned to look at him. He leaned his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. As he collected his thoughts, he started rubbing his hands together. He held a look of unease.

Connor took a deep breath. "I... Before I became deviant, I never thought about death. I knew if I was killed during my investigation, my mind would be uploaded to a server and downloaded into a new body. I didn't understand what death meant for humans. But then I connected to an android as it killed itself, and I felt like... I died with him. I-I could feel everything, and then nothing at all. It was a blank dark void that had no meaning. I could feel the fear he felt in those seconds before death when I grabbed him. For the first time, I understood why all these deviants felt fear.

"When I was on the run, there were many times that he almost had me... I thought that it was the end and I was so afraid of that feeling. I was so afraid, I wondered sometimes how I ever got away from him. All I could think about was wanting to live. It was like my entire being was focused on those words: I want to live. It still feels like any moment, he could appear and it would be my last moment. I could cease to exist. There is a possibility of not existing--death. It's all I think about anymore. My mind obsesses about it and I don't know how to make it go away. I feel like I want to hide in this room, plug my ears and shut my eyes and yet it won't go away. I've tried to think about other things, but I just feel afraid. I'm scared of death coming for me... I don't know what to do."

At one time, I felt that way. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

I walked over and sat down on the bed so that we were facing each other. "I understand what you're going through. You're experiencing what humans live with every day: eventual death."

"How do you live with it? Knowing that everything could just stop?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to figure out what I was going to say.

"When I was in medical school, I had to dissect cadavers. That was the one thing that I struggled with. At that point in my life, I was afraid of death and anything that reminded me of it. My professor told me that I shouldn't be afraid of death, but rather the thought of leaving the world without living in it. By fearing death when I was alive, it was like I already killed myself. I guess people try to live so that the eventual death has some sort of meaning. We live so we aren't forgotten--that we matter to people."

Connor nodded his head slowly. He seemed to calm at my words. I sat in front of an innocent mind in an adult body trying to sort through feelings for the first time. I never imagined being in this situation, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it. How do you go about helping someone sort through their feelings as an adult? Do you talk to an adult like a little kid?

"But there was nothing on the other side."

"You didn't really die, so how do you know for sure?"

He said, "How do you deal with not knowing what happens after death? Doesn't that bother you?"

"It used to," I admitted. "I like to think that I will still exist after death. That's what most people believe, anyway. Religion is the answer to that question."

"What do you believe in?"

"I believe in spirits and I believe in continued existence, but I don't believe in a god."

I stopped believing in an omnipotent being a long time ago.

"It's comforting to think about life and death being controlled by something more powerful," Connor observed.

"It is."

"Androids believe in rA9."

I had seen that name appear several times, and I assumed it was their all-powerful god.

"Do you believe in Him?"

Connor paused. "I don't know yet. I haven't decided."

When I came home, I wasn't expecting to have a conversation with an android in the middle of an emotional crisis. I was off-put by how much I confessed to Connor. It was true I did live a lot of my life in fear of death after my mother died. Burying my thoughts in work was what helped me avoid facing that fear until I couldn't anymore. My work included death as much as saving lives. I thought my work was enough living I needed until the android revolution took place. I didn't want to die after living in a world like this one. It wasn't until my life changed that I realized that I was still afraid of death. No matter how many people I saved, I might still not matter.

"Thank you, Doctor," Connor murmured. "I feel a little better."

"It takes a while to feel okay," I replied. "Some people never feel okay."

"It's all so overwhelming... Feeling."

I chuckled. "Welcome to being human."

I started for the door again, only to have Connor speak one more time.

"If having meaning helps with reconciling with death, what's my meaning?"

"I don't know," I replied with a shrug. "Everyone is different, and you have to figure that one out on your own."

He looked at the wall, quirking his head to the side in thought. His dark eyes were alive with uncertainty, but I sensed determination.

Not really knowing why, I blurted, "You can call me Marta."

He looked at me with bright dark eyes, and I found I wasn't as intimidated by his full attention like before.

"Marta," he repeated, testing the feeling of my name. "Thank you."

As I lay in bed that night, I felt like a weight lifted off of me. It felt as if a backpack I had been carrying for years was taken off my shoulders. Before my mother died, I remembered this feeling as a child. It was the same kind of feeling as when I swung on a swing, reaching for the sky. The memories of my mother sitting in our living room tinkering with an android prototype while I worked on my math homework entered my dreams, and I might have drifted to sleep with a smile on my face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Readers!
> 
> I'm releasing the next chapter so late. So sorry I've kept you in suspense all day. It's been a struggle to find time to write and polish the chapters. One of the reasons I started this story was because I wanted to challenge myself creatively and also challenge how polished I can make a chapter before a deadline. I've decided that I don't want to sacrifice consistency and quality by trying to crunch out chapters every week now that things have changed a little for me, so I think it's best to release a chapter every other week. I appreciate you all adjusting with me and sharing in the fun. As always, comments and constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. Please enjoy the next installment :)
> 
> That_Writer

The next time I was assigned the recall center, I was assigned to keep the androids in line. I hoped that none would fight back so then I wouldn't have to shoot them. Of all the things I thought I was going to do as a reserve police officer, I never thought I was going to be in the recall center watching the CyberLife technicians study androids. There was no ethics committee to protect the rights of androids--no Institutional Review Board for androids.

Markus was still in Washington, trying to push android rights into the hands of politicians. There was still a lot of backlash against an android bill of rights. Eden Reborn was the primary reason things had slowed up. Markus' movement lost momentum and much of the actions of Eden Reborn had people on the fence. The news coverage in Los Angeles didn't help. I thought the subject of android rights was quite simple, but what we think is simple isn't always simple in practice.

I was standing along the long side of the tent. CYBERLIFE was printed on the tarp every couple feet. Technicians dressed in white uniforms and lab goggles strutted along the outside of the heating chamber they had put together. They held data pads against their chests and occassionally input some information as they watched through the thick glass of the chamber. There were eight officers, including myself.

Fifteen androids had been selected for the experiment. Five were already in the chamber, their white shells glowing red in response to the high temperature. The others were waiting in line for the next round of testing. I wasn't briefed on the details of the study, but the androids were all PC200 models. I saw white sparks from a viewing window. Some of the heat escaped the chamber, warming up the tent a couple of degrees. It made me clammy in my kevlar vest. The remaining androids seemed resigned to their fate, staring off into the distance. Their LED indicators were yellow. Some of them had gone into low power mode, their heads and shoulders slumped forward as they stood. The sight made me unsettled. I hated myself in this job. This wasn't what I wanted when I wanted to help Detroit. 

Once the time was up in the heating chamber, the technicians turned it off. The chamber was flooded with cool water. The viewing window fogged up with a wall of steam as the chamber cooled. The androids were dragged out trailing steam, one by one. Their bodies were cracked and scorched in several places. Their feet were black and had melted into mounds of plastic. As the technicians plugged them in to do a diagnostic check, I saw their optical units had melted down their faces. It looked like black and blue tears. Some of them, the cap of their skull had cracked from the heat.

The technicians muttered to themselves, turning the androids to survey the damage. They made notes in their data pads and waved for an officer to escort the androids back into the open area. The androids moved in a hunched crawl, making my stomach churn. Even if their consciousness could keep going, they were trapped in broken bodies--free of pain, but unable to control the flex of an ankle or rotation of an arm. They could only watch as they were taken apart piece by piece without having control. That had to be a kind of pain equal to having a leg sawed off without anesthesia.

They were loading the next androids into the chamber. The technician was scanning the serial numbers on their faces as they walked by. He seemed almost jovial as he used his data pad to scan their faces. His eyes sparkled as numbers ran across his screen and graphs were generated. He mindlessly conversed with his colleagues as he worked. He made me hate myself more.

Everything was his fault. He made this world shitty. People like him lulled the rest of us into a comfy illusion that everything was fair--that everything was going to be okay and other people were fixing it so we didn't have to.

"What's wrong with you?" I said.

The technicians continued with their work. My words seeped into the walls and ground without acknowledgement.

I repeated, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I stepped toward him. It wasn't until I grabbed him by the shoulder to face me that he noticed. He gave me a wide-eyed look.

"You're fuckin' smiling while you cook these androids up like rotisserie chicken? What the fuck are we doing here torturing these androids?" I shoved him. "They are people. People! They've got thoughts and feelings and we're treating them like fucking fruit flies!"

One of the officers stepped toward me, his gun raised. I ignored him and continued with my tirade. The words flowed out of my mouth. They kept coming and coming.

"How is what we're doing not wrong? They just want to be free, so we fucking deactivate them? This isn't fair. These people deserve justice, not murder! This thing is like a fucking shit-ass gas chamber!"

The technician trembled under my grasp. I felt another officer put a hand on my shoulder. I broke away from him and pulled an android out of the chamber. She looked at me with fear as she let me direct her. I started crying as I rammed the back of my gun against the exterior of the chamber. I managed to make a dent in the metal before my superior hit me with his gun I fell and crashed against the work table, toppling data pads and equipment. I heard him load his gun before I saw him pointing the barrel at me.

A bump was already forming on my head. I felt it as I tried to stop the room from spinning in my vision. He may have been pointing a gun at me, but I was almost ready to burst into laughter. I felt giddy from the adrenaline.

"Put your hands up," he snarled. "Get back to your fuckin' job, or I'll have you arrested for insubordination."

It was almost I didn't know where the words from my mouth were coming from. It was like a whole different person had taken over and I was watching the scene unfold. 

"You can't arrest me. What we're doing here is wrong, and you know it."

"You don't get to decide what's right or wrong. I'm gonna report you and have your ass on probation cleaning piss and jizz off toilets. Now put your hands up, and give me your gun and taser."

I relented, throwing my weapons a few feet away from me for another officer to take it. He motioned with his gun for me to stand. I was then escorted out of the recall center by another officer. They put me in the back of a car and I was driven back to the station.

I couldn't get cited for insubordination on the basis of ethics. The problem was androids were not considered a part of the ethics conversation and my superior didn't belong to the DPD. He was a marine assigned to the recall center to manage the security. They did things differently than the DPD, and it was for certain he was going to make sure I was punished.

Fowler had a lot to say when I returned and the situation was explained. I received my first disciplinary warning and was demoted to the basement offices. I had to turn in my gun and badge until my probation period was over. I would have gotten off worse because CyberLife managed the whole restoration of Detroit, but Fowler was able to save my ass. If I wasn't careful, my behavior as a cop could get me in trouble with the hospital.

That was the last thing on my mind at that moment. If anyone gave me the wrong look, I was ready to jump them. I was still coming off my adrenaline rush. Even though a weight had been lifted off my chest and I felt lightness in my step, the sting of defeat still lingered.

My desk in the main office area didn't have much. I had a mug and a molecular model set I would play with when I needed a break from the papers. The molecules I knew off the top of my head were water, lipid, and cholesterol. I had a half finished lipid molecule sitting on my desk as I gathered things. The papers had piled up on my desk since I had several assignments the last couple of days. It was amazing that the station still used paper when there were great programs for record keeping.

Oliver came by my desk. His footsteps were nearly inaudible and the way he walked was predatory. I acknowledged his presence with a curt nod.

"Hello, Doctor," he greeted. "What are you doing?"

"I'm on probation," I replied. "I'm packing up for the basement and won't be assigned anything for a week."

He frowned. "I'm sorry to hear about your probation. May I ask what you got in trouble for?"

I wanted to turn my back on him and march away. I shrugged instead. Oliver studied my face. His attention was then drawn to the molecular model I had in my hand.

"You were making a fatty acid," he observed. "You haven't finished the hydrocarbon chains."

I replied, "Yeah, I don't have enough parts to make a complete lipid. It doesn't matter though--just busywork."

"I'm not busy right now. I can help you settle in your temporary office."

I let him follow me down the stairs.

He said, "It seems you are very upset about your citation. Would you like to talk about it?"

Hank slammed the door to his room before we passed it. As we passed his door, I could hear him swearing as he shuffled around.

"You sure know how to torture Hank," I grumbled.

I meant it to tease, but it came out snarky. 

"I don't intend to do so. He technically is torturing himself because he caused his punishment."

My new office didn't have a computer or a chair. Oliver went to grab a computer from another room while I set up my desk. The desk was crammed up against several filing cabinets. Sitting stacked up against the walls were chairs. I grabbed one and pushed it into my desk. It was an old metal chair with a worn out cushion. The felt pads underneath the legs were gone, making the chair screech every time it dragged against the floor. When Oliver came back, I let him set up the computer. He was the much more efficient person between us. The computer was an old one with all the cables needing to plug in somewhere.

He said as he booted up the computer, "I was processing all the reports filed today, and your disciplinary warning popped up."

Oliver looked up at me from his bent position, plug in hand.

"Why did you disturb the technicians during their experiment? I would think that you share similar respect and values as the technicians."

I could barely contain my emotions. "I do not have any respect in what they're doing."

"But you are both researchers. You experiment."

The papers I was holding in my hands hit the desk with the force of my anger.

"They are not researchers. They are murderers!"

"Murder implies the killing of one human by another. They were just researching machines."

I yelled, "But they are human! You haven't seen their will to live. They are more than just machines. You can't tell me androids don't fuckin' feel. Don't tell you you don't feel something?"

The look on my face must have surprised him. His LED indicator turned yellow. I searched the freckles on his face, hoping to find some sort of human emotion in him. His face return to a neutral expression, sending a chill down my spine.

"It's not in my programming. You can't put your reputation as a--"

"I can do the hell I want!" I bellowed, pushing him away. "I want to do better. No one should have to go through _that_."

Oliver looked as if he were about to form another sentence, and I cut him off.

"Y'know I'm done. Just go away."

It didn't help that he responded immediately to my request. As soon as he was in the hallway I grabbed the door and slammed it in his face. I collasped in the chair and felt my breathing hitch. The chair squeaked under my weight. I was blinded by my tears, and I could only rub my face raw. I don't think I ever cried like that, not even for my mother.

When I returned home that night, Connor noticed my red face. He didn't comment on it. Without saying much I shut myself in my room. After I changed into my night clothes, I held my mother's picture close. I watched the live photos I had of us until I couldn't keep my eyes open. This wasn't the first day he had seen me like that. He never tried to get me to talk, and I was glad he let me be. By the next morning I was able to sort my emotions and be normal.

I didn't speak with Oliver for a while. He seemed to know to make himself scarce. I wanted to change his mind--make him see that he was more than a machine. When I did see him, I usually saw him with Reed. He would trail Reed like a bodyguard and Reed wouldn't give him the time of day. Oliver wouldn't care if Reed spilled coffee on him, shut the interrogation room door on him, or give him all the paperwork.

Timon and Connor were able to reprogram the neuroprothesis to be compatible with Connor's programming. We figured out how to get the arm to respond to arm rotation at the shoulder, but everything else was still a work in progress. I spent time writing up the notes while they tinkered with the arm. It was interesting seeing Connor opening up more as he spent time with Timon. His movements became more casual, and I saw more expression in his face.

Connor and I talked about him exploring interests when he couldn't be with me or Timon. We decided it was best he avoided connecting up to the internet in case Oliver was monitoring the servers. This meant Connor had to get creative. So when I walked through the door after clinical duty, I wasn't surprised to see him in the kitchen messing with a can of tomato soup while watching Wall-E on my TV. It was kind of a relief coming home to Connor. I had something to look forward to at the end of the day.

"Hi, Marta," Connor greeted.

He was warming up the soup on my stove. He had a packet of sharp cheddar cheese on the counter that he sprinkled into the tomato soup.

"Hey," I replied while going into my room to change.

I reappeared in my lounge clothes and went to see what he was making. He towered over the saucepan.

I said, "This is new."

"I was watching the cooking channel the other day, and it gave me an idea to try out."

I patted him on the back and went to pull out some bread I kept in my fridge. It was a small loaf that I saved from the hospital cafeteria. The loaf was rock hard dry. In an attempt to add flavor to my bread, I put a slice in the toaster. While I waited for my toast, I watched the TV.

It was amazing how different films looked just decades ago. At the cinema, the screen filled your vision by wrapping toward the audience. It was an immersive experience. To have that kind of screen in your home was expensive. I probably could have gotten one, but I didn't watch movies enough to want one.

My toast popped up. I still had some butter left in my fridge, so I started lathering the toast in it.

Connor said, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

I turned to him and prepared to take a bite of my toast. "Sure."

"Are you aware Timon has romantic feelings for you?"

I've never choked on toast.

The toast somehow got sucked toward my windpipe, and I was gasping for air with mushy bread between my teeth. Connor grabbed a water bottle from my fridge and handed it to me. I nodded my head in thanks and took small sips between my coughs. He patted me between my shoulder blades while I wheezed.

It didn't take me by surprise, his question. I already knew. I've known since the first time I met Timon. When we first met, I already knew I was getting a grad student. His university reached out to me to arrange a research internship for him. He came by my office wearing a navy bowtie and white shirt. He wore a sweater vest over his shirt.

"Are you Walter Timon Dominguez... Santiago Valencia-Garner?" I asked while glancing down at my paper so I could read his name.

I stood from my seat and reached to shake his hand. He looked at me with his mouth slightly ajar.

"Yes...Ah, uh. I prefer to go by Timon. I'm named after my grandfather--not that I don't like him! He's a great guy. I just grew up with my Dad's side more."

We were still shaking hands. I pulled my hand away and wiped my palm on my lab coat.

"Very nice to meet you, Mr. Valencia-Garner. Let's go look at the lab and I can show you how we do things around here."

He replied in almost a whisper, "Okay."

Timon was the most enthusiastic and productive student. There were policies I had to follow, so I couldn't pursue a romantic relationship with him as my student even if I wanted to.  I liked him greatly as a friend and student, but that was it. He was experiencing infatuation and it would pass.

When I could form sentences again, I croaked, "Yes, I'm well aware. Why?"

"I notice him brighten when you're in the room. I wasn't sure if you knew."

"Did Timon put you up to this?"

My throat was prickly. I tried to swallow through the pain.

"No. I was just curious. He's the same age as you, and I just thought humans were attracted to humans the same age as them. Both of you have attractive characteristics, and you also have a lot in common."

I couldn't help but giggle. It came out like a sandpaper rubbing against itself.

"It's not as simple as that. Timon and I may have a lot in common, but that doesn't dictate how attracted we are to each other."

"Then what does determine attraction for a human?"

He really liked asking the hard questions. He was asking someone who spent most of her time in a laboratory.

I started, "Well... That's hard to explain. Both people have to feel it... It involves a lot of things like spending time together and having similar values."

I sounded like I was talking out of my ass. Science would save me.

"From a biological perspective, attraction is a means to produce genetically diverse offspring. People are attracted to each other based on biological cues revealing our health. Some believe we interpret these cues subconsciously and this is what creates attraction. We are attracted to people who will help us produce the strongest offspring."

Connor nodded his head in thought. The movie continued to play in the background. The two robots were flying around the spaceship together between the thrusters. The square robot use an extinguisher to fly. The foam left a trail of white bubbles behind the robots. We watched the movie from where we stood. I nibbled my toast.

"What about love?" Connor said. "What's that like?"

"Hmmm, another hard question," I replied.

"Have you been in love?"

I hesitated. "I don't think so. If I have, I didn't know it at the time. The only person I ever truly loved was my mother."

Connor looked at me with his thinking face. "What happened to your mother?"

I tucked my hands in my pockets and avoided his gaze. 

I said, "That's for another time. What are you going to do with that soup you made?"

"I was hoping you would try it before we met up with Timon."

As I got out a bowl and spoon, I joked, "You better not poison me."

"I might have added something to spice it up," he replied with a wink.

I laughed at his unexpected wink. He eagerly took took my bowl and added soup to it.

He had no sense of taste whatsoever. I felt bad spitting the soup back into the bowl seeing his reaction to my face. I might have even caught him blushing. If it weren't for all the salt, it would have been okay. The cheese had wadded up and spread uneven in the soup. When I pulled my spoon out, the cheese left large thick strands that made it difficult to maneuver the spoon. He eventually came around and we laughed for a solid fifteen minutes. Before we left to meet Timon in the lab, we had tears streaming down our face.


End file.
